


Totally Mental

by chewblebee, Superly_Reading



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Adventures, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Anxious Edd, DID Matt, Dark Magic, Depressed Tom, Depression, Disassociative Identity Disorder, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Matt has plenty of self confidence don't worry about him, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of sucide, Mild Self Harm, PTSD Paul, Panic Attacks, Patryk/Paul - Freeform, Paultryk, Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic Tord, Self Confidence Issues, Self Harm, Self-Hatred, Therapist Patryk, Tord/Matt - Freeform, Tortt, Witch - Freeform, Zombehs, evil witch - Freeform, friends helping each other, mentions of past suicide attempts, original background characters - Freeform, whole lotta angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewblebee/pseuds/chewblebee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superly_Reading/pseuds/Superly_Reading
Summary: Edd has always been worried. It's not a worry you get before a big game or performance. It's constant, and terrifying. It seeps into your lungs and constricts, and then you can't breathe or think or move. Edd has always just... delt with it. He makes it through. He's survived this long without help, why would he need any now? That is, until he finds out how amazing it is to have friends.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I started this fic on a random idea I got one day. I joined the EW fandom a long time ago, but I recently got back into it (with The End premiering). 
> 
> Just as a clarifier, I would like to say that this fic is a little personal. I have pretty bad anxiety and depression, and everything that I write about those two illnesses will be from my personal experience. I'll try to describe what it feels like to the best of my abilities, but sometimes it's a bit hard to fully understand without overdoing it. Panic Attacks are incredibly hard to write, much less understand, even if you have them. I've had quite a few, but it is still very difficult to wrap my head around. As for the other disorders in this fic, I have met people with mild Schizophrenia before, but never Disassociative Identity Disorder. (Multiple Personality Disorder) So if I am doing anything wrong, or you would like to correct me (please be nice), PLEASE comment, or message me on my tumblr! I will do as much research as possible, but I'm sure that it won't cover what it honestly feels like. (Good thing this will be mostly, if not all, in Edd's perspective) 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Be sure to read tags or my notes for possible triggers!

Waking up isn't always an easy thing to do. Edd knows this well enough at this point. Sleep has never been kind to him, whether it be trying to fall asleep or waking up. Usually, in between those times is the easy part. He dreams. His mind supplies him alternate situations and crazy stories. Different timelines and people he has never met before. In his dreams he can go on quests, slay the beast and save the kingdom. Sometimes he isn't a hero, he's normal, and boring, and he likes it. It's calm. Quiet.

But the dreams don't come often. He isn't that lucky. Most of his sleep consists of nightmares. Nightmares that bring up memories, and twist them until it seems so real that he thinks he'll never escape, he thinks he is going to die. Nightmares of fire and metal and screams. Loud noises and blood. It's because of these nightmares that he sleeps as little as possible. People tell him, "You look tired, Edd! How have you been sleeping?" And he knows. _He knows._ Don't they understand? The bags under his eyes speak for him. He doesn't sleep. He's an insomniac. He isn't healthy, dammit. 

But he just smiles and shrugs and says "Just been a busy week, is all!" 

And who is he kidding? Busy? He doesn't leave his house more than once a week at most, and that's only if he really needs to. He goes shopping on occasion, but he mostly orders online. It's easier, less interaction. Less shaking hands and fake smiles and controlling his nerves. He has a part time job too, down at a small shop in town, but he usually tries to take the easier shifts. 

His apartment is safe. It's quiet and soothing, and if he ever needs fresh air, he can just go out to the balcony, or open the windows. He isn't entirely against leaving, he just... he... 

Waking up isn't always an easy thing to do. Edd is woken up by the sun shining through his closed eyelids. Groaning, he rolls over and glances at the clock. 9:00am? Not bad. It's only about thirty minutes until his alarm would have woken him anyway. 

He pulls back the covers and stands, stretching his arms over his head to try to get the kinks out of his spine. He really needs a new mattress. 

Or maybe it's just because he woke up a total of six times last night. 

Edd's stomach growls and he slowly moves into the kitchen. His food is getting low, but there's still some bread left for toast. Maybe oatmeal? With the last few blueberries? His stomach gives another growl in appreciation and he begins to get out the ingredients. 

This is good. It's routine. Poor the milk, poor the mix, heat it up, add the blueberries, make the coffee. He knows how this goes, he knows the pattern. Nothing to jump out of the blue and catch him off guard. 

Did he set the microwave correctly? 

He looks at the time it's on now. One minute and three seconds left. The oatmeal takes one minute and forty five seconds. He did set it right. 

His fingers tap on the counter. There's no rhythm. It's sporadic and jumpy. Edd doesn't notice. 

When should he get to work? 

The clock on the stove reads 9:14. Work is at 10:30. He has almost an hour. Plenty of time. _It's okay._  
The microwave beeps softly and draws him out of his mind. Setting the hot bowl down on the counter, he fishes out the blueberries from his fridge. He got them two weeks ago, and he doesn't know why. He thought he might make something. Pie, or maybe some pastries. He doesn't like blueberries that much, but he had been in a good mood that day. 

He eats the oatmeal once it's cooled and then takes his coffee to the bathroom. He sets in on the counter and opens the medicine cabinet that is located behind his mirror. 

The pills rattle as he counts out his daily dosage. It's so loud in the nearly silent apartment. 

_I should get a cat._ He thinks as he places the pills on his tongue and washes them down with coffee. _It would help make this place louder. More inviting._

But how would he find money to take care of it? Would he remember to feed it? Would it just leave? Where would he even get a cat for a good price? There's no shelter nearby and he is certainly not picking up a stray. He wouldn't be able to help it back to health. 

_No cat then._

He showers and dresses in his usual green hoodie, making sure his hair looks presentable after, then glances at the clock again. 10:03. He should leave now if he wants to get there on time. He walks to work, and although he has considered getting a bike, or even a car, he doesn't want the responsibility. The bike could get stolen, considering there are few, if no, bike racks in his small town. And he refuses to drive a car. 

The walk is okay, it's just another routine. Leave the apartment complex, take a right at the road, take a left at the next crosswalk, and walk another six blocks. 

The problem isn't him getting to his destination, it's the journey itself. 

People yell, cars honk at the intersection, telephones ring and everyone seems like they're running. Edd knows he just walks a little slow, but it's hard to walk fast with his hood up. He can't see as well and he doesn't want to crash into anything. Or anyone, heaven forbid. 

The trip is uneventful, thankfully, and he enters the small craft store with a sigh of relief. 

"Morning, Edd!" Jon smiles from behind the counter, where he's busy unlocking the cash register and setting up displays. 

Edd waves and smiles, then moves to the office in the back to throw on his work apron. It's a simple uniform, but Edd likes it. It makes him feel like a part of the store without constricting him. People know that he is making money, pulling his own load in society. 

He moves down the isles and checks that all of the crafting supplies are in order, and then moves to pick up the broom on the wall. Sweeping is always a calming experience at the small store, as the floor was always in near constant need of it. The art supplies always seemed to spill somewhere, or wood shavings would fall off in the carpentry section, or pine needles in the natural section. Always the pine needles. Ugh. 

He moves his way methodically towards the front of the building, where Jon is still setting up a large display. It looks to be advertising new fabric that had been shipped in. Edd smiles quietly, that one old lady will surely appreciate that. She was always knitting or sewing something. She had even offered to make Edd a sweater, which he had declined as politely as he could. He preferred his hoodie. 

Jon knocks over a stack of cook books, and the slam that followes causes Edd to jump, dropping the broom. 

"Sorry! Sorry!" Jon quickly sets about picking them up, while Edd tries to calm his facing heart. 

"D-Do, um..." He breathes deeply and ignores his nerves as best he can, "Do you... need help?" 

"Oh, no I've got it! It's just this one little peice that got bent for some reason. I bet it was Mark. He probably folded it wrong again! You know, I always told him, be careful, but–" 

He was interrupted by the twinkling of the shop bell. 

"Customer!" A smile lit up Jon's face, and Edd watched in near fascination as he made small talk to the woman. How can people speak that easily? Just thinking about doing what Jon was doing make his stomach fill with acid and his heart clench in panic. The meds helped, but they didn't shut everything down. He wished they did. He craved to be normal. To be able to walk along the street and actually show his face without the fear of someone recognizing him and wanting to talk. To be able to speak clearly and make people laugh. To have friends who understood his boundaries and where his limits were. Jon was nice, but he was only a coworker, although he may be the closest thing to a friend that Edd has. Mark was okay, but he could be kind of a douche at times. Don't even get him started on the owner, Eduardo. 

God, what was wrong with him? He got anxiety even _thinking_ about striking up a conversation, something literally almost everyone on the planet could do at the drop of a hat. 

The lady smiled at him as she walked to the back of the store near the paint section. He smiled back, or maybe it was a grimace. He tried, at least. His nerves barely even spiked. 

Progress? 

Probably not. 

He resumed sweeping, then began to clean the counters, shelves, and desks. Keeping his head down throughout so no passing customer would try to speak to him. 

How broken was he?

About halfway through his shift, Jon began humming at the front of the store. It was nice, Edd trusted the man, and it reminded him that he wasn't entirely alone. At least, not at work. 

Jon's humming stops, and Edd realizes he hadn't moved from his spot at the end of the isle for a minute or two. His coworker's quiet footsteps tap on the linoleum as he crosses the store. 

"Edd? You alive?" 

Of course Jon is worried, he's very caring like that, and although he may not seem like it to some, very observant. 

"Uh, y-yeah. Yes." 

Jon rounds the corner and sighs in relief, then looks Edd up and down. Edd shifts uneasily under the scrutinizing eyes. 

"You look tired again, Edd." 

"I'm fine." The statement slips easily from his mouth. He says it often enough. He even adds a realistic smile sometimes. 

"You... Are you sure? You look tired, like, all of the time, man." 

"I'm fine, honest!" Now he throws in the smile. 

Jon's eyebrows furrow in concern, but he nods and doesn't ask again. For that, Edd is thankful. He can only keep some things up for so long. 

It's later in the day, during the last hour of his shift, when it happens. 

He's sweeping again, near the back of the store, with his head down and broom carefully angled to get in the corner and under the shelves. There's only two customers in the store, and one is working their way down the last isle, where he's at. Their arms are full of supplies, and by the looks of them he could guess that they're an art student. The artsy, fashionable outfit and hair give it away slightly, and then there's the weird, miscellaneous objects she's carrying. Edd only looks up long enough to note all of this before his eyes slip back to the ground. There's a spot he missed, just a few pine needles, of course. 

"Excuse me." 

Edd startles slightly at the unfamiliar voice, but when he looks up to see the purple hair, he relaxes, if only slightly. The art student smiles apologetically. 

"Yes?" He didn't stammer, at least, but it was only one word. 

"I was wondering if you know where the acrylics are? I couldn't find them in the paint section. Do you keep them in the back?" He silently envies her smooth voice. 

"Yes, they... they're over there. Near the, uh, the pottery section." His response is clipped, and he can tell it didn't sound like he wished it would. He probably ruined this person's day. He isn't in a bad mood. Should he give her a smile? She's walking away now. She didn't say thank you. Or did she? Did he say the right section? 

His chest begins to tighten and his hands shake where he is clutching at the broom. 

That wasn't enough of an encounter to permit a panic attack, right? He isn't that fragile, right? 

He tries to breathe, but his mind replays the encounter over again without his permission. He sounded so dumb, like it was his first day here, not as though he had been working here for the better part of nearly three years. Did he not hear her say thank you? Did she forget? Or did he just zone out, and she walked away when he didn't respond. 

His chest really hurts. He isn't crying, right? No. Not crying. His hands shake harder. 

He swallows and focuses on breathing. Finish sweeping, and then he can clean the windows, organize the storage room, and go home. 

A loud crash echoes through the store. It rings in his ears. The lady dropped her supplies. Jon is going to help her now. Should he help? He definitely should do something. He'll only make it worse. His head hurts and he can't breathe. 

_Think about your couch, and how you can wrap in a blanket and doodle cartoons until you get too tired to sit up. Maybe you won't have dreams tonight. Just dead sleep. And then you can sleep in as long as you want tomorrow._

It doesn't help. 

Usually he can calm down by himself, taking deep breaths and focusing on calm thoughts. As long as he's taken his over the counter meds, his heart will eventually steady. 

But it isn't working. 

He's suddenly aware of every sound around him. Everything seems too loud and the lights hurt his eyes and then his vision is blurring. He's crying. Why is he crying? 

He thinks he drops the broom, but he's more focused on being able to breathe. He can't see where he is. Panic wraps around his chest like a noose, and he knows that he's having an attack. 

It's been two weeks since the last one, but then it had been easier. He had been in the safety of his home, wrapped in a blanket and sitting on the carpet of his living room and rocking back and fourth, nightmares fresh in his mind because he had fallen asleep on his couch. 

"Edd?" 

A hand is on his shoulder, and he looks up to find Jon crouching next to him. Why was he on the floor? 

"Breathe Edd, it's alright. Shhhh." His voice echoes in Edd's mind, and Edd knows he should calm down. He should just stand up and get on with his day, but he can't find where his legs are, and his arms feel like they were floating. Tears keep falling from his eyes, but he doesn't know why. He is so _broken_. 

"Edd, please... I don't know what to do to help. What's wrong?" Jon's words are practically dripping with concern. Edd takes a moment to feel bad for the man. Of course he wouldn't know what to do, no outsider would. They wouldn't know how to properly calm him down even if they gave everything they could. A human mind was too intricate to figure out so easily. You needed to live in the steps of another to even begin to understand what they feel, how they think, who they are. 

So all Edd could do was ride it out. If none of his usual tricks were working, he would have to wait until it blows over. He sighs internally at the thought. It could sometimes last minutes, but sometimes it took hours. It all depended on his stupid brain. 

A heavy weight falls on his shoulders, and though his head is down and unmoving, he feels the fabric on his neck. _Blanket._

Jon is humming again, very quietly. He had been talking, but after noticing that Edd could neither hear nor respond, he stopped his efforts. His hand had found Edds, and now he was smoothing his thumb over the back of it. The repeated action was calming, and the blanket grounded him. 

It only took twenty minutes for him to calm down. It felt like days. 

When he's able to breathe normally again, he looks up at Jon. Concern is etched into every feature on the man's face, and Edd feels bad about causing it. He doesn't want people to worry about him. He doesn't want to be treated as if he's something made of glass. 

Jon doesn't say anything, he just keeps humming and rubbing Edd's hand. Edd turns his hand and grabs onto Jon's, squeezing once, then smiling.

Relief floods Jon's face, overtaking the concern, and suddenly Edd had an armful of blue shirt. 

"I'm so sorry, Edd. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know... I thought... are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." Edd chokes out. He clears his throat and tries again, "I'm fine. I just have... minor anxiety attacks every so often. It isn't a big deal." He smiles at Jon again, hoping to dissuade any lingering worry. 

It doesn't work. "Minor? Edd... Does that happen a lot?" 

Edd shrugged, "This is the first one in a few weeks. But I used to have them about once a week." 

"Once a week!"

"It's fine, Jon. I'm fine. Usually they pass pretty quickly. This one only lasted about," he looks at the clock, "twenty five minutes." He glances sheepishly at the other man, "Sorry for making you sit on the floor so long." 

Jon looks aghast. 

"What?" Edd asks.

" _Only_ twenty five minutes?" 

"Well... yeah... I mean th–"

The door chimed and they both look up at the sound. Mark walks inside, and his eyes find the two easily. 

"Sorry I couldn't get here earlier, Jon, I was busy and my shift isn't until 4." He said. 

Edd turns back to Jon with a confused look. "You called Mark?" 

Jon's eyes widen and for a second he looks scared, "I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry, Edd."

Edd smiles, "Stop apologizing, you did nothing wrong." He turns his attention back to Mark, "I'm fine now... but thank you for coming, Mark. You, uh, really didn't have to." 

"I know I didn't, but Jon said there was an emergency with Edd, how else did you expect me to react?" He smirks and shuffles to the counter, placing his wallet and phone behind the shelf. Jon rises to his feet and offers Edd a hand. 

As Jon pulls him up, he speaks quietly, "Hey, Edd?" 

"Yeah?" He starts to wipe the dirt and spilled glitter off of his jeans. 

"I know it may not be my place to ask, but we've been friends for a while. I've always noticed..." He pauses and rethinks his words for a moment, "Do you have, um, anxiety?"

Edd looks up and smiles at Jon, nodding a few times and continuing to clean off his jeans. Look at that, another damn pine needle. 

"Have you ever... seen someone? A professional? I've had a cousin who had bad anxiety, and she needed to go to a therapist for it. She said they let her talk about things, and then gave her medication and self-help options. She's alright now. I haven't heard her mention it again after she stopped seeing the doctor." Jon sighs and looks worriedly at Edd, who motions for him to continue. It wasn't a topic he nessesarily enjoyed, but Jon was trying to help. His... friend? His friend wanted to help him. 

"I just think maybe you should... talk to someone. I've seen how you act around people and... I want to help. You brush it off like its nothing and I want to be a good friend and make sure you feel okay." Jon breathed out and his shoulders tensed, as if he expected Edd to be angry. 

Edd doesn't know him that well, but they've hung out on a few occasions, and Jon is really quite friendly. Edd feels his aching chest warm a little at the thought of how much Jon cares. Not only about him, but everyone. 

He hesitantly places a hand on Jon's shoulder, like he's seen some people do on TV. Jon looks up, forehead creased in worry. 

"Jon... t-thank you." Jon smiles at him. "But I'm, I'm not sure if it would help." 

Jon's smile falls a little, but in the next moment it's replaced with a bright grin and squared shoulders. 

"I have an idea." He exclaims loudly.

"Oh please no." Mark's voice drifts from the front of the store. 

"Try it for a week, maybe two if you still aren't sure. I'll call my cousin and ask her is she knows of a good place nearby! I'll help Edd. I really want to help. Please." His small eyes widen, and Edd is suddenly assaulted by a classic puppy look. 

How could he say no? 

He sighs, "Alright... two weeks." 

Jon hugs him again, this time so tight Edd thinks he'll break a rib, and then he's speeding to the back to retrieve his phone. 

He wipes the last stray tears off his face and breathes deeply. What did he just agree to?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to read tags, and if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or just want to say something nice, leave a comment! It will make my day <3

It was called _Mary Hallow's Mental Institution_. It was a long, fancy name, and it frightened Edd. A mental institution? Isn't that where they put psychopaths and mentally disabled people? Isn't this what they call a... a Metal Asylum? 

Jon had been trying to calm him down since he had made the call two days ago. At first, Edd had been sure that he would be fine. He would go a few times a week, talk to people for an hour or two, and then scamper back home. When he heard it was called a "Mental Institution," well, that changed things pretty quickly. 

"It isn't what you think, Edd. Julia, my cousin, actually liked it. She didn't have to stay unless she wanted to, and everyone was really pleasant." He said. 

He also told Edd that he could choose to more or less live there. He'd be given a room as soon as they admitted him as a patient, whether he decided to stay there or not. He declined, saying he would rather go as little as possible. The room would apparently remain available if he changed his mind, but he doubted he would.

Edwardo gave him a month leave in the meantime, with a clipped message on the answering machine wishing him well. It was by far the nicest thing the man has ever done for him. 

Jon helped him fill out the paperwork. It was mostly medical records and physicals, then there was a section for a self diagnosis. Edd picked up a pen and sat for nearly two hours contemplating what to write. He knew he had anxiety, but how bad was it actually? How did he feel about it? What was it like?

Edd opted to leave it blank. He didn't know. That's _why_ he needed this place. 

With the paperwork finished the next day, Jon drove him to Mary Hallow's. 

It was a nice place, with a long driveway that ended in a loop and a large parking lot to the side. Grass and flowers and trees surrounded the building, making it seem like the beginning of spring all over again. Birds swooped through the air and bees buzzed around freshly planted flowers. People walked around outdoors, some in the parking lot, and from what Edd could see there was quite a lot in the lobby. There were a few wearing colorful scrubs with name badges, and occasionally he saw someone walking around in all white ones. 

The building itself was gigantic, large cement pillars and brick walls. There were large windows and even a stain glass one leading into the lobby. It reminded Edd of a really fancy hotel, and if he didn't know better he would find this place welcoming. 

_I shouldn't have done this._

Jon pats Edd's arm, then climbs out of the car. How did they park so quickly? Edd's hands shake slightly as he unbuckles. 

"Welcome, how can I help you?" The woman at the front desk greets in a cheery voice. 

Jon smiles, "Hello! We're here to admit a patient. Edd Gould?" 

She taps away on her computer for a moment, then nods and pulls out a file from a cabinet. "Alright, here's some paperwork to do while you're waiting on the doctor. He'll give you the run down of what Mary Hallow's is and what to expect. He will also do a slight examination to begin with, but nothing major, just a few questions. Alright?" 

She's looking at Edd, so he nods and gulps shakily. She smiles and turns to the next person in line. 

It takes the doctor nearly 20 minutes to call them, a quiet exclamation of his name echoing into the lobby. Nurses weigh him, take his height, take his temperature, then call in the doctor. Jon pats his hand when he realizes how hard Edd's been clutching the chair he's sat in. 

There's a knock on the door, causing Edd to nearly fall out of his seat. 

"Come in!" Jon says once they're situated again. 

The door opens to reveal a man. His hair is long, and somewhat shaggy in the front with overgrown bangs, but he has a kind look on his face. 

"Good morning, Mr. Gould." He says in an odd accent. 

"Hello... um, E-Edd is fine." 

The doctor smiles and scribbles something on his chart. At Edd's worried glance he chuckles. "Just wanted to make sure not to forget. A lot of people here like to go by their last name, or sometimes even nicknames, so I'll have to get used to just first names with you." He clicks his pen and extends his hand to Edd, then Jon, "My name is Dr. Patryck Dudulewicz, but just call me Doctor or Patryk, if you will." 

"Hello, Doctor!" Jon says cheerfully. 

"So you must be a friend, yes?" Patryk smiles down at them.

"Yes! My name is Jon. We work together, and we hang out occasionally. I suggested this place to Edd." 

"Well, you have fine taste, Jon. I assure you that Edd will be in the best of care here." He smiles and readjusts his clipboard. "Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions, Edd? We'll begin a tour after, but I want to make sure I understand why exactly you are here before we do." 

Edd nods, a small nervous ball forming in his gut, "Alright."

"From what I can gather from your medical records and medications, you have anxiety, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"How long have you been feeling anxious like this?" 

How long? How long has he been like this, a shell of a once former self. Hiding from the world and sleeping a maximum of five hours on a good night. 

He thinks for a minute, and finally comes up with an answer. 

He mumbles softly, "Since I was in grade school. About halfway through my parents... passed away. They, uh, they..." He stops and breathes. 

"It's alright, Edd. So, years?" Edd nods, and Patryk scribbles on the papers again. 

"Tell me, what does it feel like? Every person who comes in with anxiety has a different view of it. All of them have separate sets of symptoms, and many I've had come in and tell me things even I have never heard of before." 

"It feels..." He pauses again, considering how to word it. He tries to recollect the feeling of an anxiety attack. It's turns out more complicated than he originally thought. "It's like someone is crushing me. Like, they are sucking the air out and my head spins and my brain starts screaming." 

"Screaming? Like a headache?" 

"No, no. It's as if all of the doubts I've ever had come back again. They're all screaming and I can't stand it." 

Patryk nods in sympathy. "Alright. Only a few more questions, okay?" He writes something down and then leans forward, "Edd, have you ever... zoned out? Some describe it as if you're watching a movie, or dreaming. Some also say they can't remember bits and pieces of their day. It's just gone, as if they fell alseep while they're awake. It's somewhat like daydreaming, but much more jarring." 

"Do you mean... am I dissociating?" 

Patryk leans back in surprise and blinks, "I'm amazed you know what that is, Edd." 

Edd shrugs and smiles softly, "I spend a lot of time on the internet. I read an article about it." He looks down at his hands, "Yes, I do. It happens really often. At least once every few days. That's... that's why I don't want to drive. I'm afraid I'll hurt someone because I'm not paying attention." 

Patryk nods again. "That's normal for people with a mental disorder. Especially in patients with anxiety and depression." He scribbles again, then leans back and sets the clipboard down on the table. "Last question. This is a question that I need a one hundred percent truthful answer of. No one here will judge you, right, Jon?" 

Jon nods quickly and smiles. 

"Alright, ready?" The doctor says.

Edd nods.

"Edd, have you ever attempted, or considered, self harm and/or suicide?" 

Edd sits bolt upright as his eyes widen. "I-I um... uh..." He stops and breathes deeply. 

"It's alright if you can't answer now, but I will need to know, Edd. It's a concern, and we need to take precautions, but only if you have. No judging." 

"No judging." Jon agrees quietly. 

Edd evens his breathing out enough that he feels like he can speak, heat fills cheeks and he looks the doctor in the eye, "I've... considered it. I never did anything! I-I ju-just um... I wondered what would happen if I did. But nothing comes out of it, right? So, I didn't..." The blush spreads across his entire face. He moves his hoodie sleeve up to cover part of his cheek.

"There's no need to be embarrassed or ashamed, Edd. You came here to stop feeling like this, and I applaud you. It's very brave. You came here for help, and I intend to give it to you as best as I can." Patryk grabs his clipboard and stands, "Are you ready for the tour?" 

Edd nods and stands too, Jon following quickly. They follow Patryk as he leads them down the corridor. He explains each part of the building as he goes, showing them the cafeteria, the courtyards, the garden, and the gymnasium. 

"There's a pool in the room across the gym," he points to a door that has fogged up windows, "but it's mostly for physical therapy and stress treatment. The gym is available for anyone. On Fridays we have community games of volleyball, football, and basketball. If you prefer to excercise alone, there's a weight room connected through that door." He points at the one on the far left. 

There's people in the room, either running on treadmills or lifting large weights. Edd doesn't see himself going to these rooms much. 

"Next we have the left residence wing." He stops in a large, welcoming room. There are large windows that let in light, a shelf filled with games, a pool table, and three televisions. "This room here is the recreational room. Some people here refer to it as the building's living room, and a lot of residents come here to wind down. There's games, a wii, an Xbox, the pool table, and even community computers through that door over there." He points to a door near the corner on the right. 

They move through the room, and Edd only sees one person. It's a girl, and she's asleep in one of the chairs. 

"Good evening, Missy." The doctor calls across the room.

"Hey, Doc." She says in a tired, southern American accent. "New arrivals?" 

"Just one, you can meet him after the tour, if you'd like." 

"Alright, see ya." Edd doubts she will.

Patryk opens the door, and they step through into a hallway filled with doors. Each door has a number, and as they walk down Edd notices they only stop at 78. 

"Where are the, uh, the rest? Do you only allow 78 patients?" 

Patryk laughs. "This is only the first floor of the first wing. There are three other wings, two in the back and one on the opposite side of the building. Each wing has four floors. Overall there are about 1000 rooms here. Not including the nurses and doctors, like myself, who live here." 

Edd starts, "You live here? Why?" 

"Because this place is my home, and every patient is my family. We'll get into my sob story later on, if you want." He grins and laughs, "Not that exciting, to be honest. Poland is pretty boring if you ask me." 

"You're Polish?" Jon asks.

"Yes, I was born and grew up there, then moved to England before I was shipped off in the army. You've probably been wondering about my accent. Sorry about that. It does sound odd, doesn't it?" He laughs again and begins walking before either can comment. 

They walk up a flight of stairs, then go halfway down the upper hallway, stopping at room 92. 

"Here's your room. It's available to you as long as you are a patient here seeking medical treatment. You can choose to stay, or if you would like, you can alternate between here and your home. If you don't want to room at all, that's okay. You can always ask me if you change your mind, alright?" He fished in his pocket, then pulled out a key with a pendant on it. "There are some patients here who don't get a choice if they stay or not, you're very lucky in comparison. Some like it, others... not so much. To each their own." He unlocks the door, then hands Edd the key. "If you want to look around, go ahead. I have another patient scheduled in five minutes, and I should go now. Just call me if you need any help finding your way around or have any further questions. Welcome to Mary's Hallow." With that he smiles and briskly walks away. 

As soon as the doctor is out of earshot, Jon turns to Edd. "He's awfully peppy considering the people he works with. Must not be the most fun job, but he looks happy." 

Edd smiles and shrugs, "He must just be really good at this." 

"Yeah, that's probably it." Jon opens the door and Edd moves through the doorway. It's a small place, only large enough for one person. The bedroom and bathroom are separate, while the small kitchen connects to the living room. There's one couch, a desk, and the basic kitchen supplies.

"Wow, this is great! Free meals, free electricity, free wifi! You're living the life, Edd!" Jon says as he takes in the small apartment. 

Edd chuckles, "First of all, none of this is free. I'm paying for the treatments, remember?" 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Jon moves to the windows and looks through the curtains, "But look at this view!" 

Edd joins him, and honestly, it's much better then he was expecting. There's a field of green, all grass and flowers. Bushes line the perimeter, and gardens and greenhouses spot the yard. Birds fly in between trees, and on the far end of the clearing, Edd spots a large pond. 

"Wow. This place is beautiful." Jon says. 

Edd can only nod. It really was. 

"Do you think you'll stay here?" Jon sounds hopeful, and Edd hates to ruin it. 

"Honestly, Jon. I don't think I will. What about my apartment? I won't be able to take care of it, and I don't want to have to pay rent if I'm not staying there. But if I don't pay rent I won't have anywhere to go back to." 

Jon deflates, though only slightly, "Oh yeah. Forgot about that."

Edd doesn't like the look on Jon's face, so he says, "For now, why don't we look around more? Then we can go home. Tomorrow is my last day of work anyway." 

Jon nods again and brightens at the thought of exploring the new building. They travel through the hallways, visit the computer room, and find the laundry room. The room connects to a door that leads outside to the back field. Edd (not to mention Jon, who is more or less vibrating with energy at this point) is quite happy to wander the gardens. There's a few elder women in the gardens with gloves and trowels, and they wave politely as the two pass by. Each of them has a bracelet, signifying that they are patients. It helps because you can get in and out of the building by swiping it on the doors. Patryck had told him his would come in tomorrow. 

They are almost to the lake now, and there isn't anyone nearby. The quiet sounds of chatter echo behind them, and birds tweet in the trees. 

Edd suddenly realizes that this place might not be so bad after all. 

"Thank you, Jon." He says quietly. 

From the corner of his eye he sees his friend grin, "It's not a problem at all, Edd. I'm always here to help my friends. Even Eduardo." 

Edd snorts and shoves Jon with his shoulder. 

A cough breaks the easy mood. 

There's a dock nearby that Edd hadn't noticed before. It's on the right side of the lake, and from the looks of the colorful lures and poles, is a popular fishing spot. 

On it sits a man. 

Edd almost didn't see him with how he had hidden himself behind a small shelf and a blue buoy. His hair had given him away: the brown spikes peeking over the buoy and swaying in the slight breeze. His white scrubs showed that he was a patient, and though they were a little dirty from the dock, they seemed relatively new. The man was wearing a bracelet, but it was more plain then the ones he had been shown. Overall the man looked pretty normal.

Except his _eyes_. 

At first Edd thought he was wearing sunglasses, but at a second glance he realized they were just _black._ Did he even have eyes? 

_It's rude to stare._

The man hears them approaching his side of the lake and looks up. Jon barely notices due to his fascination with all of the nature around them. 

Edd makes eye contact with the man, at least, he thinks he does, then offers a tight-lipped smile. His signature awkward, anxious smile. 

He receives one almost identical. 

Edd snorts to himself when they finally pass the man. 

_At least someone here gets me._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos if you're enjoying it! It makes my day!

As Edd walked into work the next day, he couldn't help but feel a little sad that he wouldn't be coming again for a month. This place, although not nearly as safe as his home, was the next best thing. It was usually quiet, and other then a few instances, like the one a few days before, it was peaceful for him. He could always be kept busy and he appreciated that. There was no room left to doubt if he was doing it correctly, only sweeping, scrubbing, dusting, organizing, and cleaning. 

Edd has only been put at cashier duty a few times before, and it was only because either Mark or Jon were too busy with something to take it on. It wasn't too bad, until he gave a woman the wrong amount of change back. She screamed at him, threatening to have him fired. Jon eventually heard and came to the front, trying to calm her down, but to no use. She stormed out, and Edd had felt so numb that he didn't even cry until he lay in bed that night. It had been an awful panic attack, because the entire day had been spent holding it in with all of his might. He had found distractions, mostly in the form of watching cat videos online and drinking cola. 

There were good memories here as well. Like the time Mark, Edd, and a reluctant Eduardo threw Jon a birthday party. Jon had squealed and hugged each of them for a total of two minutes each, then ran around looking at all of the decorations and presents.

Walking into the store now was bittersweet, even with the knowledge that he would be back in no less than three weeks. 

The day went by quickly with Mark at the cash register and him organizing the storage room. They worked quietly, and Mark eventually plugged in the speaker system to give them some background noise as they worked. It was nice, and there were barely any customers. It was a good day. 

That night he didn't remember any of his nightmares. He only woke up three times. 

_Progress?_ He thought to himself the next morning after his mind was functioning properly. _Maybe it is progress. Maybe Mary's Hallow will actually help._

Jon couldn't drive him today, so he took a cab, the driver got annoyed with his stammering and nervous _Um_ 's, and quickly deciphered where to go. The man didn't speak to Edd through the entire journey, and Edd was glad. 

Walking into the lobby is a familiar experience, and looking at the soft lighting and pretty scenery calms him from the tense car ride. He walks up to the desk, seeing the same lady as the day before. 

"He-," He clears his throat, "Hello." 

"Hello, Edd. Nice to see you back." He is mildly surprised to know that she remembered his name. 

"Thank you..." He looks at her name tag, "Jacqueline." 

She smiles, "Your appointment begins in about twenty minutes. If you want you can sit in the lobby, or in the living room. I think there are a few patients in there now. You could introduce yourself?" 

He smiles and nods, even though he has no intention of doing so. 

The curtains are pulled back in the room, letting in the soft morning sunshine. It smells like honeysuckle. It's so calming Edd thinks he could fall asleep, and he suddenly finds himself lost in the feeling. He doesn't think he's ever been in a more peaceful place. 

A cough echoes through the room, near a corner that is surrounded by bright windows and various types of plants. 

It's the man from yesterday. 

He's seated in a large, overstuffed leather armchair with his knees tucked under his chin. He looks small where he is curled up, but from what Edd could tell yesterday he's taller than himself. 

The man heaves another cough, taking his gaze away from the window to cover it, and finally notices Edd in the room. 

They stare for a moment, before the man speaks.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." 

That startles Edd into moving, "No, I-I'm sorry, I uh, I didn't mean..." He takes a deep breath, "I didn't mean to stare. M-My name is Edd, I'm a new patient here." He steps forward and offers what he hopes is a smile. 

The man contemplates him for a moment. Then says, "Tom." 

Edd smiles again and moves forward to sit across from Tom in the other armchair. 

"Do... Do you live here?" He's doing well. Actually initiating conversations has always been difficult, it makes his head feel light and his tongue feel heavy. He pushes the feelings aside and waits for an answer. 

"Yeah. I'm in the left wing." 

"Oh, I am too! I... won't be actually living here... That's just, uh, where my room is..." He trails off. 

"Oh. Alright." 

There's a moment of silence between them, and it's not as awkward as Edd thought it would be. 

"Was that your boyfriend yesterday?" 

Edd startles and stares at his new acquaintance with wide eyes, "N-No! Jon is my friend. He's just very caring. Also he's, the uh, only one I know who drives." 

"Ah. Why isn't he here today?" 

"He's busy. I took a cab." 

Tom snorts and scowls, "Cabs are too damn expensive. They always charge too much, meter or no meter." 

Edd chuckles, "Tell me about it. He charged me forty just to get from my apartment in London to here! It's only outside of town." 

Tom smirked, eyebrows rising, "Hate to break it to you, but I think you might have gotten a bit robbed." 

Edd laughs, and it's so easy and new that he stops almost immediately, eyes widening in surprise. 

"Don't worry," Tom says quietly, "it's a good thing." 

Edd doesn't get a chance to ask what he means. 

"Edd, I see you've met Tom!" Patryck appears in the doorway and strides over to them, lanyard swinging. "He isn't giving you a hard time, is he?" The doctor throws a joking glare at Tom, to which the man rolls his "eyes."

"No, no, not at all." Edd checks his watch for the time, "Am I late for our meeting?" 

"Only by a few minutes, but I had a few papers to fill out anyway. If you could follow me, you can get back to socializing after." 

Edd nods and stands to follow, turning around to Tom, who hasn't moved, "I'll see you?" He says it like a question, scared that maybe Tom didn't like him. Sometimes he annoys people like that. Like the taxi driver, or his old teachers. 

"Yeah, I'll be here." Then Tom smiles, and Edd feels his own lips stretching to mimic the action. He waves, and feeling lighter already, jogs to follow the doctor. 

The meeting goes quickly, and Edd is surprised to learn that they won't be digging into his mind today. There is no breaking apart his memories and piecing them back together through a psychoanalysis. Patryk sits in a wheeled chair, while Edd takes the large armchair. The office has plants spaced within it, and the calm colors and lighting make him feel... peaceful. It's the second time he has felt like this at Mary's Hallow. 

"So, Edd," the doctor starts, "What would you like to talk about today?" 

Edd raises his eyebrows, "I thought you... that you were the doctor here?" 

Patryk chuckles once and leans back comfortably in the chair, "I am. I have the degree right there to prove it." He points at the far wall, where a framed degree from a college Edd has never heard of hangs, "I went through the training, yes, but that doesn't mean I understand people. Everyone is different. It's impossible to actually know a person after only meeting them once and looking through a few files. Do you understand?" 

Edd nods. 

"Great. You can start whenever you'd like." 

It had been nice to just sit down and talk with someone. He avoided serious topics, and stayed mostly on smaller ones, like funny stories and things he did in school. He talks about his job, and his apartment, and how he wants a cat. 

It goes by so quickly that Edd doesn't even realize it's been an entire hour of him just _talking_. 

When he notices, Edd stops mid sentence in the middle of a story about how he broke his finger in senior year and looks up at Patryk. 

"You are an extraordinary listener." He comments. 

"And you're a great story-teller. It's all part of the job, and I'm actually quite pleased with how well this went." He glances at the clock and scribbles on a notepad. 

"One more thing before you can go, alright?" 

"Alright." 

"How do you feel?" 

"Like... g-generally or..."

"However you want." 

Edd thinks for a moment. Then smiles. 

"Better." 

Patryk returns the smile brightly, "Fantastic." He writes on the notepad again, then closes it and stands, offering a hand for Edd to shake. "Next meeting for tomorrow, 3:00pm. Is that alright?" 

"Yes, thank you." 

"Have a great day, Edd. Tell Tom I said hello!" 

"Alright." Edd smiles again as he closes the door. 

He strolls down the hallway, and his mind drifts to everything that has happened in the last couple of days. He had never seriously considered seeking therapy before this. It had been a passing thought on occasion, but mostly he knew that his problems weren't that bad. He could live. He could eat and sleep and breathe. Sure, meeting people was a little rough, but he would get through it. He didn't want to bother anyone with his problems. It's silly when he looks back now... but he still wonders how bad his anxiety actually is. He talked to Tom well enough, only stammering a few times. Maybe it's because he knows Tom is here for a reason; Tom has problems of his own. Though those problems may be different from Edd's, they're all in this boat together, right? 

Another thing that he knows is helping is Patryk. He's kind, and let's Edd speak whenever he needs to for as long as he needs to. He doesn't get annoyed with Edd's constant stammering and correcting, but he listens fully and calmly. Actually, now that Edd thinks about it, everyone he has met here has been that way. Even Tom. No one rushes him. Maybe they can tell why he's here. 

A jolt of nervousness congeals in his stomach. He doesn't want them to know. They'll judge him. They'll know he's broken. They'll know how speaking to people is the hardest thing he has to do in a day. _They'll know everything._

He doesn't realize he's stopped walking until he glances up to see his arm leaning heavily against a wall. He's breathing heavy. How did he get here? 

He looks around to get his bearings, and sees a sign across the hall attached to two large doors.

_Contained Patients. Please use caution._

That sounds ominous. 

He backs away a little and hits his foot on a water fountain. He should get out of here. Did he take a wrong turn? How did he get lost so easily? 

"Hello!" 

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the cheery voice. He quickly turns around, trying to calm his racing heart. 

It's a man, and Edd immediately notices the fiery hair on his head. The man is dressed in white scrub pants, the kind that patients wear, he's learned, and a purple hoodie. He also has a green jacket on top of that. Isn't he hot? 

Edd coughs once to clear his throat, "H-hello." 

The man's smile gets wider, "You're nice. I like you." He glances at the surrounding area once, then fixes his eyes back on Edd, "Where are you supposed to be?"

"Uh, in the um, I'm not..." He trails off, and watches as the man tilts his head in understanding, smile so large that his teeth are showing, 

"So not here?" He asks, and Edd nods, thankful that he could decipher what he had been saying, "Alright, I'll bring you back to the lobby, is that okay?" Edd nods again. 

"I'm Matt, by the way! I live in the back left wing, near the gardens. It's really pretty over there." He holds out a hand to Edd, "What's your name?" 

"Edd." He glances down at Matt's hand before reaching forward and shaking it. His hands are shaking, and it's nice to feel the warmth radiating off of the other man. "I... uh, like your nails." 

Matt practically glows. 

"Thank you!" He stretches his fingers out in front of them, showing off his brightly colored rainbow nail polish. "It helps to keep Lilly happier! I've heard she gets in moods sometimes, what a funny girl. I actually did these last night, because apparently she was a little down. I hope she likes them." He grins again and blushes. Then turns and begins walking in the opposite direction of the doors, looking back to make sure Edd is following.

Edd smiles a little. He's already decided that he likes Matt. The man seems very caring. "Oh, that's nice. Is L-Lilly your girlfriend?" 

Matt turns and gives him a surprised look. 

"Girlfriend...?" 

"Like... a-are you dating Lilly? Or is she your wife... or, or sister?" Edd feels a blush spreading on his face. Did he step over some line? Maybe family isn't a good topic here. He should just stop talking. 

"Oh!" Matt's bright voice startles him, "No, no! Lilly isn't related to me at all." 

"Oh, uh, okay..." 

"Lilly is _me_!" 

What? Did he hear that correctly? 

"I'm sorry... I don't..." 

Matt only laughs easily, "It's alright. A lot of people don't understand at first. I'm Matt, but I'm also Lilly and Preston! They're me! I have DID!" 

"DID?" 

"A lot of people call is multiple personality disorder. Isn't that neat?" Matt is nearly skipping down the hallway. 

Edd remains strolling behind. "I... yeah, I guess it is." He smiles at Matt. 

"They're here now, but whenever they're in front I get pushed to the backseat, you know? I don't really remember what they do. Doctor Patryk tells me how they're doing though! That's why I painted my nails, because Lilly usually likes colorful things. She's so cool." Matt grins and taps a rhythm on the wall. 

"You seem to really like yourself." Edd says, praying that it didn't sound offensive. 

"Oh yes, I'm amazing. Lilly is beautiful, and funny, and Preston is sooooo cool. I always wake up to cool drawings and once he even tried to learn drums! He isn't as friendly as Lilly or me, but he's still so awesome." His smile gets impossibly wider. 

Edd finds himself mimicking the expression. 

Then Edd realizes that they've made it to the front lobby. He hadn't even been paying attention. He doesn't know what to do now. He really doesn't want to take a cab or bus home, and he'd rather not stay here in the barren apartment. He hasn't brought anything by way of clothes or hygiene products. 

It's also almost 4:00. 

He speaks before he really knows what he wants to say, "Hey, Matt, would you like to come hang out with me in the living room?" 

Matt's eyes light up, "I would love to!" 

Edd smiles and leads him down the familiar hallway, glancing around in search of Tom. 

He's in the same place, now with a book propped open on his knees. 

"H-Have you been here the... the whole time?" Edd asks him quietly. 

Tom looks up and closes the book, which Edd now realizes the man was writing in. He tucks a pencil in the spot to mark his page. 

"No, I went back to my room for a little bit. What took you so long?" 

Edd glances away sheepishly, "I might have gotten a little lost after my appointment..." 

"He ended up in the west right hall!" 

Tom looks up at Matt as the man speaks from behind Edd. 

"Oh, um... I should introduce you two... T-" 

"I know Tom! He and Preston have talked about making a band together!" He leans over to whisper in Edd's ear, "And I think Lilly might have a crush on him, but don't tell anyone." 

"Yeah," Tom speaks from his chair, "How ya doing, Matt?"

"I'm fantastic, as always. Look!" He spreads his fingers out and angles them so Tom can see. 

The other man's smile, to Edd's surprise, is softer than any he has seen from him thus far. 

"They're great. Lilly will love them." 

Matt explodes in a rush of squeals, and hurries over towards Tom. 

"Can I hug you?" He asks.

"Of course." Tom smiles again, showing teeth. 

Tom's small frame nearly disappears behind Matt's tall one. Edd steps back a little in confusion. 

"How long have you known each other?" 

"Tom was my first friend at Mary's Hallow! We both got admitted on the same day! He's so cool." 

"Matt." Tom's voice sounds irritated, but Edd thinks he sees a slight blush spreading on his cheeks. Edd snorts quietly, and Matt smirks when he see's it as well. 

Matt turns and says to Edd, "Tom is the coolest, second to me, of course! You should hear him play bass. He can only do it sometimes, like on holidays, when there aren't that many people here. Patryk says he's really good too, but Tom doesn't believe us. He's really smart and nice too. When I was still in college, before I moved here full time last year, he helped me with some homework! You should see him write. I had a paper for English and he wrote down possible ideas to help me, and I think he should be a writer. Preston does too, he wrote in my journal one day that if we ever become a archeologist, we'll hire Edd to write all of our stories down, it'll be–" 

"Matt! Jeez, we just met the man, don't you think we should leave _some_ room for secrets?" He's blushing harder now, and his eye sockets are wide. 

Edd snorts, then moves his hoodie-covered hand to cover it up. 

Tom's attention turns to him, and his eyes narrow, "I heard that, Edward." 

"It's actually just Ed–" 

"Whatever." Tom crosses his arms and pouts. Matt laughs. 

"Isn't he adorable when he's aggressive?" 

Edd can't cover up his laugh this time, and Matt tries to apologize to Tom through fits of giggles. Edd already knows that Tom has forgiven him, and it's nice to see how well they all get along.

_My first real friends._ The thought pushes to the front of his mind, and he finds that he can't stop the small giddy feeling he gets in his chest. _Don't screw this up._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's hard to write stammering without seeming like I'm overdoing it... Hmmm... 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, please leave a comment/kudos! <3 happy reading!

The three boys spent the rest of the day in the living room. They played some games on the wii (it was mostly Mario Kart) and talked about everything. Matt was always talking about random topics, and Edd and Tom would always listen with full attention. Edd learned that Tom didn't speak much, except to make sarcastic or dismissive comments. Overall the man seemed pretty normal, and Edd began to wonder why he was here. 

He wouldn't bring it up, of course. Topics about their illnesses needed to be brought up on their own volition. Matt was very open about his, which Edd had figured out from the moment they had met. Matt was even a little bragging about his disorder. Or maybe he was just bragging about himself. Edd didn't over think it too much. 

There was a period of time where Tom and Edd were playing while Matt sat back and watched, when suddenly Tom's car flew off the side of the track. Edd glances away from the game quickly to his new friend.

"Tom, what ha-" 

"Tommy!" Matt squeals, hugging tightly to Tom's waist. Tom had dropped the controller on the couch, apparently, and is now staring down at Matt in confusion. He looks up at Edd, who raises a questioning eyebrow. 

Tom only smiles and hugs the man back. 

"Heya, Lilly." 

Edd pauses the game and stares. It feels rude, but he suddenly can't comprehend what just happened. 

"Tommy, I've missed you! I haven't talked to you in three days! Silly Preston and Matt stealing all the fun. I–" Matt, or Lilly, suddenly cuts off, and screams. 

"Lilly, what's wrong?!" Tom exclaims as both him and Edd rush forward. 

"LOOK AT WHAT HE DID!" She shrieks, and Edd now realizes her face is full of pure joy.

"...What?" Tom asks.

"He painted his nails! For _me!_ Isn't he just the sweetest? Oh, Matt is so amazing." Her smile makes her cheeks stretch and eyes crinkle. 

"Oh, yeah he told me he did. Last night actually. He said you hadn't been feeling well." 

"Oh. My. God." She's scrutinizing the nails now, glancing between each one like she doesn't know which to look at. "He did so well! I love the colors! I feel amazing! Tom, can you tell him later that I said that? Could you? Please?" 

Tom nods and smiles, "Of course."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She hugs him again. 

"Uh..." Edd realizes he hasn't said anything through this entire situation.

Lilly turns to him, noticing him for the first time. "Oh, hello! I'm Lilly!" 

"Edd. It's n-nice to-to meet you."

"Aw, you're so sweet! It's nice to meet you too!" She rushed forward, and Edd finds that he suddenly has an armful of green jacket. When she pulls away, she looks him in the eye. 

"I'm not really sure who you are, but you met Matt, yes?" Edd nods, and she grins, "Isn't he great. Look!" She flashes her nails again. 

"Y-Yes he showed me. He was very proud of them." He smiles shakily. Why is he so nervous? It isn't like he's meeting anyone new. Or maybe he is. Is this still Matt? Edd will have to ask him to explain further later. 

"As he should be! They're amazing." She whispers, a wonderstruck look in her eyes. "I already feel so much better. I haven't felt very well lately because..." She trails off, and Edd is suddenly very aware of who he is talking to. This is _Matt_. Matt, who only minutes before, seemed like a possible friend for Edd. Who was definitely a man. Now, in his mind, he has already began to refer to Matt as "she." It's confusing. It's scary. And Edd is too overwhelmed. He knows he shouldn't be. Matt is nice, Lilly is too. They're the same person, but they aren't. What if Edd says something wrong? What if he says something offensive to her? Or him? Or both of them? He doesn't even know Preston yet. How can there be three people in one body like this? What caused Matt to be like this? He shouldn't be thinking any of this. It isn't his business. Not his problem. He's being rude. 

"Edd, darling, are you alright?" Matt's voice cuts through his thoughts, and Edd now realizes for the first time that it's higher pitched than normal. 

"F-Fi... I'm..." 

He feels a hand on his arm, it's a rough grip, but it grounds him. 

"Would you excuse us, Lilly? I think Edd needs some air." Tom says. Edd can't seem to find him. 

"Sure! I'm going to go back to my room for a bit and write Matt a note. I'll see you, Edd! Bye, Tommy!" With that she smiles and skips away.

Tom pulls him up, and in the next moment they're outside, sitting on a bench. A bee flies in the nearby flowers, bouncing from bell to bell in search of pollen. Tom's hand is still firmly grasping his upper arm. 

"Edd. Breathe." His voice is strong, and Edd follows the instructions, only now noticing how shallow his breathing had gotten. 

They sit in silence, listening to Edd's shaky breaths and the birds chirping in the trees. It takes almost five minutes before Edd feels ready to speak. 

"I-I'm sorry." He says, and he really is. He feels so horrible for having to ruin a nice time. Lilly just wanted to meet him, but it was too much. _It shouldn't have been too much._ Edd has always been accepting of everyone. He used to be able to roll with anything, taking life's punches in stride. But now... 

Now he can't even say a word without stammering. 

He hates it. He hates himself. He wants to scream and cry and hit things. He wants to run away and just get lost. 

_Such a waste of space._

_Can't even talk to people._

_Pathetic._

"Edd." He doesn't notice Tom's voice at first. It just blends in with the rest of his raging thoughts. "Edd!" The second time is more forceful, and Edd has to look up to the other man. 

"Edd, you need to stop that." 

"S-s-top... wh..."

"You're gonna hurt yourself, man. Come on." Then Tom's hand is wrapping around his and pulling. His arm is stinging, and his hand feels numb. "That's it. Good." 

Edd finally manages to look down at his arm. Angry red marks run up and down it, and he sighs internally. At least it wasn't his hair this time. That always hurts more. He thought he had broken these bad habits. Were they habits, really? More like... nervous tics. Or impulses. He used to scratch his arm until it bled, or yank and twist at his hair. He stopped doing it when he started his small doses of medication.

 _Oh, that's why then._

He breathes deeply before he tries to speak, "Doctor t-told me to... stop meds because... he w-wanted t-t-to start me on new ones soon..." He inhales shakily, "I'm s-sorry..." 

Tom nods his head, "Yeah, they do that for everyone here. Told me to stop taking my meds when I came here because it wouldn't be good to switch them immediately. They'll give you new ones soon when they think you're ready. They'll actually be prescribed now." Tom releases his hand, and Edd drags it back into his lap. "And what do you keep apologizing for?" 

That takes Edd by surprise. Doesn't he know? "I-I ruined your time... and I probably hurt Lilly's feelings... I just... I just didn't know what to do. It-It was too much..." 

"Yeah, I get it. Matt can be a little hard to understand. A lot of things here are. But you're one of them now, right? You just gotta roll with it. You actually took it pretty well, in my opinion." Tom reaches over and pats Edd's shoulder, and it's only slightly awkward, which Edd considers to be an achievement.

"And if you're worried about Lilly, she's pretty hard to offend. All three of them are really. They love themselves." Tom stands and stretches his arms above his head, "When I first came here I wasn't the nicest fellow, but they accepted me right off the bat. I promise, you didn't do anything wrong." It's so nice to hear that, that Edd feels like he's going to cry. He appreciates what Tom is saying, but he's still unsure. What if he _did_ hurt Lilly's feelings. What if Matt knows? How could they ever be friends now? He screwed it up. He feels his arms begin wrapping around himself.

Tom notices, and rolls his eye sockets, "If you really feel that bad about it, how about we stop by Matt's room and you can talk to them. They'll be excited, I'm sure. Probably invite us to sleep over or something." Tom shrugs and steps away, grumbling something about "weird nice people." 

Edd feels the corners of his mouth tugging into a shaky smile. 

They walk through the building, and instead of taking a left to go to the lobby, Tom leads them down a hallway that Edd hasn't been down yet. 

"This is the back left wing. It's beside ours, but more towards the back lawn." Tom explains to him. "I think Matt specifically asked for a room near the gardens. He says Lilly likes colors, but I think he secretly does too." 

"D-Do you think that... maybe he didn't just paint his nails for Lilly?" 

"No I don't think so." Tom turns around and gives Edd a sly grin. "I _know_ so." 

Edd snorts and covers it with his hands.

Tom turns back around and leads them to a room labeled 207. He taps the door three times with the back of his knuckles, and Edd thinks he hears an excited gasp from behind it. 

The door opens quickly and Edd is suddenly pulled through by a hand on his arm. 

"Tommy! Edd!" Excited squeals echo through the apartment. She wraps her arms around both of them tightly. 

"Hiya, Lilly." Tom grunts out. 

"H-Hi." 

She releases them just as Edd begins to feel like he might have permanent spine damage, her excitable gaze darting between the two. 

"I was just about to go find you both! I wanted to show you my apartment, Edd! Matt and I usually do most of the decorating, since Preston can be a slob sometimes. He tries to clean up after himself, but sometimes he forgets, you know?" She laughs easily. 

Edd doesn't know how to respond, so he glances to Tom for help. 

Luckily, he gets the message across, and Tom jumps in, "Lilly, why don't you give him the tour?" 

Lilly's eyes light up, and she grabs Edd by the hand, pulling him more into the room similar to his own across the building. "This is the main room! Preston installed a TV for us a month ago. Matt got the sofa, and I got the table! Everything else, like this," She picks up a small toy action figure, "Is Matt's! He really loves novelty toy collecting. He writes about it all the time in his journal!" She delicately places the toy back on the shelf. 

"The bathroom is right there," she points to a door to the right of the adjoining kitchen, "And our bedroom is beside that! Come on!" She tugs him towards it, Tom following behind slowly. 

The door opens and Edd jerks back in surprise. 

There's mirrors _everywhere._

A large, full body one sits in the corner, and smaller ones dot the walls. In between some of the mirrors are pictures. Edd looks closer and has to stop himself from chuckling. Pictures of Matt, no less. 

"Isn't it great?" Lilly says beside him, "Matt had the idea one day. He said in his journal that it would help us to love each other more! That was during one of Preston's bad moods, I think. He gets in those sometimes. We all do, but him especially. It's okay though, because I know he's trying really hard!" She smiles pleasantly and walks over to the large mirror on the wall. 

Her gaze scrutinizes it for a moment before she loudly proclaims, "Man, I look gooooooood!" 

Tom chuckles from the doorway, and Edd smiles. It's really nice to meet someone so self confident. He only dreams about being able to do that. To look in a mirror and think _I'm great, I look good, and I feel good. I'm perfect._ To look in a mirror and not hate the person staring back. 

"How do you do it?" 

The question cuts through the easy mood, and Edd has to resist slapping himself when he realizes it was _him_ that asked it. 

"Do what?" Lilly asks, gaze drifting away from the mirror to look at him. 

Edd looks to Tom, who has an odd expression on his face. No help from him, then.

"Uh, H-how do you..." He trails off, not sure how to word this. So stupid. Such a dumb question. "H-H-How do y-you be so... confident... w-with yourself..." He knows he's blushing, he can feel the red heat of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks and neck. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

"Oh, Edd, it's easy, really! Come here, I'll show you!" She grabs onto his hand again, and drags him towards the mirror. He opts to stare at the soft carpet, watching as his shoes move the thread with each step. 

"You have to actually look at the mirror in order to learn, silly!" She raises a hand and gently guides his chin so he's staring at the mirror. At himself. 

If he were he alone he would cringe. 

He should have combed his hair more today. There's bags under his eyes from his lack of sleep. His eyes are bloodshot too. There's a pimple on his cheek. He didn't shave very well today. His boring green eyes look dull and tired. It's like there's a cloud above his head. He sees his slouching back, and the slightly chubbier areas. He looks at his arm to see the fading red scratch marks from earlier.

"Okay, now, tell me what you see." Lilly places her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. 

"Me." 

"Well, yes," she giggles, "More specific than that!" 

Edd hates the way he grimaces. This is a bad idea. Should he tell the truth? It would be worse to tell a lie. It's always worse to lie. Lilly only wants to help, although he doesn't see how this will do anything. He takes a breath, and begins, "I see a man who, according to everyone he has ever met, is a waste of space. A man who can't even have normal conversations without stammering or having a panic attack. A man who sits with the blinds shut and draws for days because he would rather doodle than even _think_ about meeting people. A man who doesn't sleep, because nightmares keep him up. A man who can't even try to make a goddam effort because of how fucked up he is. A man–" 

"Edd." It's Tom's voice, and the forceful voice bounces around the small walls. 

Edd realizes that his vision is blurry, and blinks a few times, tears escaping down his cheeks. He's still staring at his reflection, and it's almost like it's mocking him. He wants to punch it. Break the glass until his knuckles bleed and his bones snap. Until he can't see that awful image anymore. He's visibly shaking. 

Warm arms wrap around him, and he buries his face in the soft purple hoodie. Lilly is stroking his hair slowly, shushing him. His arm stings again, and he brings his arm up to see even more red streaks. His focus shifts to Tom, where he expects a look of pity. The same look that countless numbers of people have given him in the past. A look he despises. 

All he sees is gentle understanding. 

"Edd?" A voice says from above him, he hums in response and turns in the embrace to look up. Lilly has the same look on her face that Tom does. 

"I'm fine... s-sorry." He sniffs, suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. 

"You don't need to apologize, sweety. It's all part of the process. I didn't just start off this confident, you know. But you have to take the insecurities and use them as building blocks. They may not be all good, but they're a part of _you._ Do you get it?" 

Edd nods and sniffs again, "Yeah, I think so." 

"Great!" She squeezes her arms tightly around Edd, and this time it doesn't feel suffocating. It's warm and inviting and comfortable. Then there's a movement, and the next moment Edd looks up to find Tom squished beside him. He's only grumbling a little, which Edd can tell Lilly counts as a victory. 

When they pull apart, Lilly begins bouncing excitedly, "I just had a wonderful idea!" She sings. 

"Let me guess... sleepover?" Tom says, crossing his arms.

"Sleepover!" Lilly squeals and jumps. "Could you, Edd? Please? Tom, I know you can, you're never doing anything. Edd, can you? Are you busy?" 

"I can, yeah. I don't have any clothes or anyth–"

"You can borrow mine! Well, maybe some of Matt's. He likes stuff that seems more of your style. Preston likes dinosaurs, so probably not him. Yeah, Matt's will be good. They'll be a little big, is that okay?" 

"That's fine, t-thank you." 

"No problem! Now, while I'm getting Edd clothes, Tom, go pick out a movie and run over to your apartment to get some of your stuff. Edd, you can make popcorn! Oh I'm so excited!" With that she bounces into the closet, leaving behind a very confused Edd and a very exasperated Tom. 

"She's... always like this?" 

"Yeah. Always." 

Edd grins wiping the last tears from under his eyes, "That's awesome." 

Tom snorts, "I know, right?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this chapter isn't Beta'd by my wonderful, beautiful, extraordinary superly_reading 
> 
> It's late when I'm posting it, and she's been busy lately, as have I. 
> 
> As always, leave a comment or kudos if you like it!  
> And thank you so so so much for all the positive feedback this has gotten so far!  
> (PS, I really hope I've explained DID well! I've done a lot of research on the disorder, but that only gets you so far. You can't actually know what it's like until you have it)

Tom leaves the apartment with a soft click of the door, and Edd sets about making popcorn, finding nearly an entire drawer stocked with bags full of the snack. He pops it into the microwave, double checks the time, and sits back to wait for the timer. _Did he set it right? He should check the bags again. It would suck to burn the popcorn. It would ruin their night. He has an entire drawer full._

"Edd! Try this on!" Is all he hears before the room turns black.

"Ach!" He scrambles to remove the shirt from where it's wrapped around his face. Ugh, he even did his hair up today. 

"Sorry!" Lilly giggles, "It's Matt's shirt, but he never wears it. I think it's a little too small for him. None of us know what it means anyway." 

Edd unfolds it and looks at the writing on the front. 

_SMEG HEAD_

"Wow, thank you." Edd smiles just as the microwave goes off.

"Oh it's no problem! You can keep it. None of us will ever wear it, that's for sure." 

Edd drops the popcorn bag on the counter to let it cool. He turns back around to find Lilly moving to sit at the stools that line the counter. Edd leans against it, deciding now would be a good time to talk to Lilly about some things. _What if it invades her privacy? He isn't even that good of friends with her, or even Matt, yet. They don't know him. They won't trust him. It can't hurt to ask, right? It will. Probably not._

"Hey Lilly... if you don't mind me asking... well, I-I have a couple of, uh, questions." 

Lilly sits in the stool and leans her elbows against the other side of the counter. She grins, squinting her eyes, "Shoot!" 

"Okay... uh..." He's nervous already. Bad idea. Bad idea. This was stupid. Is it? Oh, it is. He's sure of it. But... he needs to know these things if he wants a secure friendship with Matt. He takes a deep breath and pushes forward, "How do you feel about pronouns?" He prepares for backlash. For yelling or crying. That always happens. This is the reason why he doesn't get involved with people. There's too many social guidelines and protocols for him to keep up with. It's overwhelming. He already stepped over a line somewhere. He knows he should close down. Why did he speak in the first place? Just eat popcorn, sleep, and leave. It's simple. Now he has to wait, expecting the incoming outburst.

He doesn't expect the kind smile he gets instead.

"That's very sweet thing for you to consider, Edd. Not many people take the time to ask us about that. Especially me. I'm her or she. And the other two are he or him. All together we are them or they, but I understand if you need to just say Matt, or even Lilly or Preston. You've known Matt longest, and he is more or less the oldest of us, so it wouldn't surprise me." Her smile is warm, and when she makes eye contact with Edd, he can see her eyes getting watery. 

"A-Are you okay?" Edd asks, concern in his voice. _Here it is. I knew it would come. Ruined it._

Lilly sniffs a little and laughs quietly, "You and Tom are the only people to ever consider us like this. Like separate people, but still all one in the same. It's just... it's very refreshing. Thank you, Edd." She reaches forward and pats his hand a few times. The gesture is nice. Calming. 

"Uh, yo-you're welcome, it's only c-common curtesy. I want to-to make sure not to mess this up. You know?" 

Lilly nods. "Yes, I understand perfectly." She wipes her eyes of the dampness and sniffs again, "Any more questions?" 

"This one is kind of... weird..." 

Lilly only laughs, "Everything in Mary's Hallow is weird, Eddy. You get used to it. Especially with me." She winks and Edd feels a blush rising on his cheeks.

"U-Uh ye-yeah, heh, um..." He takes a deep breath, "Can you guys, you know, see what's happening when you aren't... what did Matt call it?" He thinks for a moment, then snaps his fingers, "In the drivers seat! That's what he said. He said he gets pushed back, but can he see what happening right now? Will he remember? Do you or Preston?" 

Lilly nods, "That's a good question. You're pretty smart, Edd. Disassociative Identity Disorder symptoms and habits vary from person to person. Just like with any mental disorder, no two are alike. It's a part of us. Like a finger print. Maybe it isn't our greatest attribute, but it's still _us._ Some DID patients remember it like a dream, it's fuzzy, but they can recall instances where things happen. Some can't remember at all. We're sort of... in the middle. Sometimes, we can remember things, or feel certain things the other's feel. Does that make sense?"

Edd nods. "A lot, actually." 

She smiles and giggles, "Once, in our fourth year of school, we fell off the playground and sprained our wrist. I was the one playing at the time, so I felt it all. Kids weren't always nice to us, so they thought I was overreacting. They always thought that." Her tone is darker, and Edd finds he doesn't like it on Lilly. She notices his concerned eyes, and picks herself up quickly, "I had to walk across the playground by myself to get the teacher! I remember that I felt like a warrior returning from a battle or something. I didn't even cry much." She says proudly. 

"Did Matt or Preston know?" 

"That's just it! When I got to the nurses office, Matt pushed forward, and when I came back, I was in my room at home. There was a note in my pocket from him." She smiles softly. 

Edd leans forward, resting his chin in his hands, "What did it say?" 

"It didn't say much. We were still young and learning how to write. But he drew me a picture. It was all three of us holding hands. It made me feel so much better, because that meant that even when Matt hadn't been "driving," as he called it, he was still there with me. Preston too, even if he couldn't feel it as strongly." 

Edd feels like he's going to melt into the floor. 

"That is the cutest, most incredible thing I have ever heard." 

"Right?!" Lilly squeals. "Matt is always looking out for us. I try to, too. But he's always been the optimistic one. Preston is youngest, so he is kind of like the baby of the group. He's also more moody and... I don't know. He'd punch me if he knew I was saying this." She smiles coyly. 

Edd giggles and moves to chew on a nail, his cheek resting on one hand. 

"Lilly... earlier... at the mirror..." He sighs deeply, scrunching his eyes closed and reopening them to focus on the kitchen counter. "You never really, um, a-answered my question." 

Edd doesn't look up. He doesn't want to see her expression. _Pity rage hatred disappointment sorrow empty._

"I'm not always happy." 

Edd resists the urge to look now, maintaining his glare at the countertop. 

"I have days where I think, "Why am I here? What makes me different? Why can't I be a part of my own body?" Matt is kind, and wonderful, and accepting. He's _me._ I don't even known if I'm real. What if I'm all just some twisted part of Matt's mind? That's what doctors say sometimes. The old doctors and therapists we went to, they told Matt he needed to grow up. They told Preston "Matt, you need to stop acting like a seven year old. You're fifteen." Preston didn't speak for days after that. We didn't... we didn't know what to do." She sighs and sniffs. Edd still doesn't look up, but he drags his hand across the table to grasp for Lilly's. When he does, he squeezes once, and feels warm when she returns it. 

"It helps having each other, though. Honestly, they're my best friends, my soulmates– heh, literally– and my family. They're me, and I love myself more than anything in the world. A lot of people say it's conceded, but when you grow up the way I did, going through what I did, where your only companions are you... you have to learn to love yourself, or you won't get very far. 

We keep journals. We write down thoughts and notes to each other, and every time one of us pushes forward, we check the other's journals. It's nice, because it reminds me that this isn't all in my head. I can feel them, they're inside me right now, and I, them. We're always together, and I love them so, so much." 

Edd doesn't remember when he raised his eyes to look at her, but now that he is, he feels the telltale pressure of tears in the back of his eyes. He blinks quickly to clear his vision, and a few heavy drops fall down his cheeks. 

Lilly leans forward and wipes them away, smiling gently. 

"Any more questions? Tom will be back soon." 

Edd nods and breathes through his nose. _You don't need to ask it. You should. It wouldn't be very helpful. But what if it is? He needs to know._

"H-How do I do that?" His voice is quiet. Meek. He wants to scold himself for sounding so childish. So dumb. Like a kid asking if they can have the last cookie, not a grown adult asking for mental health advice. He does taxes, for god's sake. 

"Remember the mirror?" Lilly's voice breaks his inner battle and Edd nods, "Well, I said to look in it, and tell me what you see. I used to see a mistake, a flaw in everything. I still do occasionally. But... once you notice what _you think_ you are, you'll start noticing changes. You'll look at yourself and say, "My hair looks good today." Maybe it won't be superficial, maybe you'll think "I feel good, and I've already laughed four times today." It's simple once you get the hang of it. Just look at yourself, think of a positive thing, and the rest falls into place.

"Granted, there will be times when you feel like a sack of shit. You'll look in the mirror and not be able to think of a single good thing. It's natural. Even average, non-mentally ill people have days like that. It's completely normal, I promise, but it will always get better, as cheesy as that sounds." She stands, walking around the counter to open one of the cabinets near the fridge. She pulls out a bowl, and begins pouring the now slightly cooler popcorn. 

The door clicks, and Edd turns to watch as Tom enters the room. 

Wearing bunny slippers. 

Edd quickly covers his snorts and giggles with a sleeve, feeling his face turning red from the effort. 

Tom notices and turns a glare to Edd that could, in theory, put Edd in a graveyard. 

"Not a word." He hisses. Edd only strains harder not to laugh. 

"What was that, Tom?" Lilly turns around and takes in his outfit, only taking the time to exchange a similar strained look with Edd before turning back to the popcorn, shoulders shaking. 

"They're comfortable!" Tom growls, at her, face going red. 

"I haven't... said... anything." Edd gasps out between breathless giggles. 

"And you," Tom swings an accusing finger to Edd, "Shut your face!" 

"Manners!" Lilly sings. 

"Bah!" Tom throws his arms up and stomps to the TV, pulling a movie out of the small bag he brought. 

When Edd feels calm enough to walk and talk normally, he stands, grabbing a bowl from Lilly and carrying it over to the couch. He doesn't know where to sit yet, not wanting to take someone's place, so he stands to the side. 

_That's good. Not in their way._

"What, uh, movie are we watching?" 

"Attack of the Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell 7." Tom says as he pulls out a red-stained disc from the player. He sticks his tongue out in disgust. 

"Lilly, what the hell is on this thing? Is that Star Wars?" 

"Huh?" Lilly peaks over the counter, then snickers, "Sorry! Preston probably spilled jam on it. Just lay it on the stand and I'll clean it later." 

"Blech..." Tom unceremoniously plops it onto the small TV stand, then replaces it with the new disk. 

Edd watches, still standing, as Lilly comes out of the kitchen carrying drinks. She sets them on the coffee table and sits on the left side of the couch, leaning back and folding her socked feet under her. At some point in the transition, the sweatshirt her and Matt had been wearing that day gets stretched around to cover her knees. 

"Comfortable?" Tom grumbles as he stands.

"Very. You?" She eyes the slippers with a sly grin. 

"Leave me alone, godammit." 

"You love me." 

"Shut up." 

"Make me." 

Tom lifts his middle finger, not taking his eyes off the movie title screen. "Just start the movie." Edd thinks he spots a red tint to Tom's cheeks. He smiles, who knew Tom could be so soft? Inside, deep deep under the abrasiveness, Tom is actually kind of sweet. Edd wouldn't dream of telling him that, though. He likes having his face the way it is. 

Lilly hits play, sits back, then notices Edd. She doesn't say anything, just smiles kindly and pats the spot in the middle of the couch, between Tom and her. He moves and plops down, worriedly chewing his lip. _Too cramped. They don't like this. Inviting you was obviously a mistake. Too crowded. Too many. You should leave._

Edd shoves back the thoughts and grabs a handful of popcorn. 

Only thirty minutes later, Edd finds himself with Tom's feet in his lap and Lilly's head on his shoulder. He's pretty sure they're both asleep. He won't move though, he just smiles and finishes the popcorn. 

Five minutes after that, his eyes begin to droop. 

Three minutes more, and he's fast alseep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom ships it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll with these chapters! As requested, here's some cute shipping action. :3 It's a little shorter than some. But I'll have another one out soon! 
> 
> Thank you all for such nice comments!!! You have no idea what it means to me when I read them. They mean the world. <3

Tom wakes up early. He sometimes does that. Either sleeping the day away or waking up at the crack of dawn. His mind fucking hates him. 

How good it must feel to be able to have a regular sleep schedule. A normal level of motivation. He had all of that, once upon a time, but somewhere down the road it just... stopped. He stopped wanting to wake up. Stopped wanting to eat. Stopped wanting to live all together. Well, he did live, but it was more of... basic survival. Eat when your stomach growls and sends cramps through your gut. Sleep when your body gives up on you and you pass out on the couch. Shower when you smell. Drink water. 

Back in the day, he had to set a timer for that last one.

All of these feelings that stopped, the motivation, determination, his basic drive for survival, it dwindled. It shriveled inside of him until he felt... nothing. He had always thought that when people were depressed it means they're just sad all the time. 

People pity him. They say, "You should try to smile more! Go out with friends! Throw a party! Play some video games! Teach yourself something new! Blah blah! Positive stuff! Blah!" He _hates_ it. It makes his skin crawl. The fake smiles. The voices dripping with sugar-coated syrup. The thumbs up and inspiring messages he would receive in the mail. 

_You'll make it through!_

_Just hang in there!_

_You're in our prayers!_

Inspiring, his ass. They went to good use, though. His apartment's fireplace had fuel for a week. He'd roasted marshmallows. 

Tom rubs his eyes and stands, twisting his back every which way and hearing the popping of his spine. Edd and Matt are still asleep, and at some point had curled up together tightly. Edd's head on Matt's, who was curled up to the other boy's chest, legs stretching out to the side. 

Tom snickers and grabs his phone, the shutter of the camera echoing in the quiet apartment. 

He grabs his small bag from the kitchen counter and makes his way to the bathroom. He beelines to the toilet, then washes his hands, splashing his face with the cold water in hopes that it would remove the rest of his dreariness. 

He looks in the mirror. 

Well... he "looks" in the mirror. 

His eyes have bags under them. Heavy, black smudges that stand out against his pale skin. It's not as dark as his eye sockets, but he thinks that if he keeps up this weird sleep pattern— or lack thereof— for a few more years, they'll be close to it. 

His cheeks are hollow, and even though they make sure that he has constant meals at Mary's Hallow, he always manages to look malnourished. His ribs protrude from his chest. You can see the veins in his arms. 

He's a mess.

He scratches a hand through his hair and grimaces. _Medicine._

He reaches into the small bag and grasps the small pill bottle in his hand. There's four left. One for each day left in the week. He gets refills on Sundays. 

He shakes one out and swallows it dry, frowning and sticking his tongue out at the faint taste. Anti-depressants always have that weird... fish-sock-medicine-chalk flavor. It's hard to notice, but it's there. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He doesn't even need to check it to know it's his notifications alert. His meetings never change. Every third day. 8:00am. It's a cycle. It's constant. He only enjoys it a little. 

Which is more than he enjoys most things, honestly.

Tom changes clothes, stashing his slippers under the counter for the time being, and leaves the bathroom. He takes one more picture of the sleeping boys (because come on, it's freaking cute, alright?) and exits into the hallway. 

It's always quiet in the morning. A lot of people schedule their meetings and appointments during the afternoon or evening. Tom likes it earlier. He can smell the dew on the ground through open windows and hear birds chirping morning songs, all while gentle, calming breezes drift lazily through the curtains. It's nice. Tom thinks Patryk might appreciate it as well. It gives him time to wake up for other people later in the day. Helps him get moving, or something. 

At least, Tom hopes that's the case. Maybe he's just being an inconvenience. Who knows. Probably. Eh. 

He knocks on the office door and waits for the telltale sound of the squeaky desk chair as Patryk stands. 

It doesn't come. 

Tom's eyebrows crease, and he knocks again, louder this time. 

"Patryk?" There's no response. 

Tom has always been told it's a bad idea to open doors uninvited. Bad manners, at least. He can probably make an exception for this. 

The doorknob clicks, and he sticks his head through the opening of the frame. It's empty. 

"What the hell...?" Tom sighs and closes the door again. Redirecting himself to the front lobby. The room is quiet except for an older man sitting in the corner and Tom feels his eyes tracking him as he walks to the front desk. Jacqueline looks tired, red eyes with with bags under them, typing away at the monitor in front of her. He leans forward and taps on the counter quietly to get her attention. 

She sits up and her mouth stretches into a lazy smile, "Good Morning, Tom." She yawns loudly at the end, reaching up with a hand to cover her mouth.

"Heya, Jacky. Did you sleep alright?" 

"Fine, fine. Just early is all. And this dang paperwork." She rolls her eyes to the monitor, which Tom now sees is covered in different documents and spreadsheets. 

"Yikes. Coffee, man. That's where it's at." 

She chuckles and lifts a large mug from behind a stack of files. "Don't need to tell me twice." She takes a sip and sets it back down, "Oh, did you need something, Tom?" 

Tom nods, "Yeah, um, where's Patryk? He isn't in his office. My appointment wasn't moved, right? It is Wednesday?" How stupid would he feel if he got the day wrong. Ugh. 

"Oh!" A blush rapidly spreads across her cheeks and she turns to a clipboard on the desk, flipping through page after page until she lands on one and points with a painted nail. "I'm so sorry! We had a new arrival today and your appointment got moved back an hour! Pat's out with him right now, giving him the tour and such." Her blush grows deeper, "Maybe you can... go meet them? Or maybe... just go back to your room. I didn't even think to call you. I'm so sorry, it's been a weird, busy day." She leans her forehead against her palm and sighs deeply. 

Tom feels bad for the girl. She's always so bogged down with work. She always takes care of the extra paperwork that Patryk and the other assistant doctors don't have the time to do. Which is quite a lot. 

He leans back from the counter and smiles in what he hopes is a nice way. "It's fine, Jacky. I had to get up anyway. Edd and Matt took up the entire couch last night. If I slept normally, I wouldn't have gotten any sleep." He snorts and smiles again when he see's Jacqueline's blush recede. 

"Whew. Thanks, Tom." She leans back in her chair, "Edd and Matt? They're friends? How did that happen?" 

Tom fixes his gaze on her, needing only one word of explanation, "Matt." 

"Gotcha." She laughs. "So, would you like me to find out where they are? You want to meet the new guy? Making friends, being sociable, and all that?" 

"Not really." 

"Great!" She pulls out her phone and types on the keyboard before Tom can say anything else. It dings again within seconds and she smirks at him. "They're in the Cafeteria." 

He glares. "Gee, thanks. Glad you always take my opinion into consideration." 

"What are friends for?" She shrugs and turns back to the monitor. 

"Probably not this." He grumbles. 

"Oh, and I already told him you were coming. So you can't just scamper away and hide. They're expecting you now and we know where you live." 

He groans and smacks his forehead to the counter. 

"Have fun!" She smiles and waves, then pushes him off the desk when he doesn't move. He resists the urge to flick up his middle finger and decides to walk away as swiftly as possible. 

He strolls around the property for a while, stopping at the computer room to check his emails, then meandering down the main hall. It's a little busier than it was when he first woke up, but still quiet for the most part. 

He finds the doctor in the cafeteria square, just like Jacqueline had said. The square is a courtyard that's centered in the cafeteria. Picnic tables spread out amongst butterfly bushes and small flowering trees. Tom's never eaten there. He eats in his room. 

The swinging door squeaks as he enters the courtyard, and Patryk's head perks up from where he's sitting at one of the tables. 

"Tom!" He says pleasantly. 

"Hey, Doc." He sniffs, feeling a tickle in his nose. Ugh, pollen. 

Patryk stands and walks over to him, and Tom now sees the other man who was previously hidden from view. He has dark, mused hair and is currently smoking a cigarette. There's medical wrap circling half of his face. 

And _eyebrows. Such huge eyebrows. Holy hell._

"Jacqueline told me you'd be coming," Patryk is suddenly beside him, and he breaks his focus with the man's brow. _How rude._ "She probably just wants you to get out more, hm? Crazy girl." The doctor laughs easily and motions him over to the table. "I'd like you to meet our newest member at Mary's Hallow. Tom, this is Paul. Paul, Tom." 

Tom pulls his hand out of his white pants pocket and waves, "Hey."

"Hello." The man says in a gruff voice. 

"His room is a few doors down from yours, I believe." Patryk smiles at Tom. 

"Cool." There's only a grunt from Paul, and Tom wishes he could go back to Matt and Edd. This is becoming awkward. He usually isn't that good at interaction anyway, but wow, this is pretty bad. 

A hand on his shoulder breaks his thoughts, "Hey, Paul. Would you give us a minute?" Patryk smiles at Paul. 

"Sure." The man puffs on his cigarette. 

Before Tom can react he's whisked into the cafeteria. Patryk leads him to the vending machines, where he pulls out a dollar and pushes the button for a water. 

Tom notices his hands are shaking. 

"Woah, man, are you alright?" Tom asks. 

Patryk uncaps the bottle and chugs it until he coughs from lack of air. Tom awkwardly reaches forward and pats him on the back. 

"Easy, Pat, easy. What's up, Doc? I'm, uh, not the shrink here." Patryk's eyes dart around nervously, and Tom sees his cheeks turning red. "Do you have a fever? Listen if you're sick you don't have to stay here. Your health is more important than a j–"

 _"He's so cute."_

Tom sputters and shoots a startled look at Patryk. "Wh–" 

"Tom. Listen. He's... he's really cute. I'm making such a fool of myself. He's so nice. I like his hair. He wears this cute sweater... and... I can't... Tom he's a _patient!_ I've only known him for an hour! I don't... I..." He groans loudly in frustration and covers his face with his hands. 

"Oh my god, seriously?" Is all Tom can supply. He wants to smack himself. Gee, so smooth. He watches as Patryk's face burns an even brighter red. He only shrugs, hands reaching up more to cover his entire face. 

"It's awful. I'm such a horrible person. I'm supposed to... to help people! This is the opposite of–" He makes a frustrated noise and removes his hands, expression changing into one of determination. "Tom, I need your help." 

" _My_ help?" Tom snorts. "You want me, the depressed, anitsocial band geek, to help you do something about your little crush." 

"Yes!" Patryk hisses. "You're the only person I know who can help me! I've never–" He stops abruptly.

Tom squints his eyes. "You've never what?" 

The blush returns full stop. Patryk mumbles something under his breath. 

"I'm sorry, didn't catch that." Tom lifts a hand to his ear. 

"I... never," The doctor runs a hand through his bangs and sighs, "I've never had a partner, okay? I've never dated anyone. I just haven't been interested! I've always been dedicated to my work. I love Mary's Hallow, it's what my life is. But..." He casts a glance outside to where Paul is still seated, cigarette burning in an ashtray. Tom sees a starstruck look flash across his face. "He's made me genuinely laugh more than anyone I've ever met. I only met him an hour ago, and he's already made me really happy. I feel like I'm going insane. Which is insane. And ironic. Heh." He gives a shaky laugh. "Am I crazy? I'm not twelve anymore. I'm a full grown man. This shouldn't be happening."

Tom looks at the scene. Patryk has a fun time at Mary's Hallow, yes. He can always been seen in a good mood, which is a feat that has always amazed both him and Matt, considering the toll that his job could take. He laughs often, makes jokes, and is generally very pleasant. But as Tom thinks about it, he's never seem the doctor like _this._

The man looks absolutely lovestruck. Like a cupid shot him ten times in the chest then called it a day. 

And damn if they wouldn't make a cute couple. 

Tom reaches forward and places a hand on Patryk's shoulder, letting the weight of it draw the man back to reality. 

"You want my advice?" He asks.

Patryk nods vigorously, bangs bouncing. 

Tom smirks, "Fuck the system. Go for it, man." 

Patryk startles, "S-Seriously? Do you think that's smart? What if I mess it up?! I'm-I'm not very good at... flirting or... romance..." Patryk twists his wrist watch around. Again and again. It's a nervous tick that Tom's never seen on the man. 

_Must be some crush. Geez._

"Dude. Really. If it will make you happy, you need to do it. Plus, look at him." Tom almost laughs out loud at his own words. He's such a hypocrite. 

But the last part was just to egg Patryk on. 

"Yeah..." Patryk says dreamily, "Look at him." There's a weird crooked smile plastered on the man's face. 

They stand there for an entire minute before Tom finally loses his already thin patience. He grabs Patryk by his shoulders, spins him around, and pushes him through the door, only calling out a quick, "Go get 'em, Tiger!" Before turning and strolling back through the cafeteria. 

He stops by the front desk on the way back to Matt's, and gives Jacqueline a knowing look. 

She returns it, then points to the cafeteria. Her hands form a heart, then she makes it explode in huge jazz-hand fireworks. She then sends him a thumbs up. 

Yeah, Tom thinks so too. Patryk is totally heads over heels for this new guy. 

He can't wait to tell Matt and Edd.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to apologize ahead of time if the events in this one seem a little rushed, but I'm really excited for parts that are coming up. This isn't my best writing because I'm getting impatient with myself, wow. -.-
> 
> Thank you all so. freakin. much. For all the nice comments. They are the thing that keeps me the most motivated when writing!!! You're all so nice, and I love you guys <3 
> 
> (PS, I'm considering starting a Tumblr account for this fic. Should I? It would be for headcanons, extra parts, art, and questions. Tell me what you think)

Tom strolls down the hallway, keeping a steady pace as his footsteps echo on the linoleum floor. There's only a few other people in the halls, so he chooses to keep his head down until he makes it back to Matt's. 

He begins to wonder who he'll meet when he walks through the door. It isn't like he minds which one, he enjoys each of them, but he would like to talk to Preston sometime about his drum playing. He needs some advice on a new song and Preston might have more ideas about how to improve it. Maybe they could record together. Him on his bass and Preston on drums. Maybe Lilly could sing? Edd beatboxing?

Tom chuckles to himself at the image. They could totally make a full band one day. 

Maybe he can teach Edd how to read music. Does Edd know how to play an instrument already? He'll have to ask when he gets back. He probably plays something like the recorder or–

"Oof!" His shoulder jerks back and he almost goes flying into the wall, placing a hand on it to break the impact. Once he recovers, he realizes that he ran into someone while he wasn't paying attention. They're standing still, so hopefully they aren't hurt. 

"Hey, man. Sorry. Must have been in the clouds. Heh." They still don't move and Tom's forehead creases in concern, "Uh, are you alright? Did I hit you that hard?" 

The person only groans once and shuffles away. 

Tom watches in concern, then huffs. There can be some rude people here. At least he apologized. They couldn't be _that_ injured. Overdramatic assholes. 

He keeps walking, now with slightly more haste. Great, now he's annoyed. And his morning was going so well. 

When he walks through the familiar door, the scent of bacon hits him like a wall, and he nearly drools when he realizes he can also smell coffee. He hadn't had a chance to eat that morning and right now he feels like he could eat an entire house. It's weird how he used to be able to go nearly days without eating. Now he eats on an almost regular basis. Three meals a day. Every day. Hell, he even snacks sometimes. He still looks like a twig, though. Figures. 

"Tom, you're back! How was the meeting?" Matt's excited voice echoes through the room. 

Tom smiles and walks over to the counter where Edd sits. The poor guy looks sleepy, his bedhead still in full effect. He blinks slowly and yawns, tiredly mumbling a casual, "Hey, Tom." 

"Pff, did you even sleep?" Tom's mind drifts to the pictures on his phone and he has to stop himself from snorting a laugh. Edd only shrugs. "And hey, Matt. The meeting would have gone fine." 

Matt glances up from the stove and sets a glass of orange juice in front of the two boys. Edd immediately picks his up and starts chugging. "Would have?" Matt asks.

"Yeah, if I'd had one." Tom slips his phone out of his pocket, opening the photo app and sliding the phone across the counter into Edd's view. The boy's eyes widen and he has to cover his mouth to stop the spewing of orange juice. Tom closes out his phone with a smirk. "There's a new guy moving in and Pat had to give him the tour. Jacqueline forgot to call me because my appointments are so early. She told me to go meet them instead." Edd tugs on his shirt, eyes pleading and shaking his head furiously. He's blushing. This is hilarious. Tom shrugs and gives a half smile. 

_Delete it._ Edd mouths.

_Shut your face._ Tom mouths back and sticks his tongue out. 

"Oh, that's nice." Matt says, "What's the new guy like?" 

"Uh..." Eyebrows flash through his mind. He pushes the image back. "Quiet. Kinda serious. Well, from what I could tell. Patryk felt differently." 

Matt turns around and gives Tom a questioning look, which he returns with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. The silent conversation passes, and soon enough Matt's face lights up with understanding. 

" _Oh!_ " 

"I know right?" 

"But..."

"Yep." 

"THAT'S SO _CUTE._ "

"What?" Edd's voice cuts through the air and the two turn to him. Tom had almost forgotten that the man was there over Matt's excitement. Poor guy's only been here a day. 

Time to mess with him. 

"Oh, Edd. Our good doctor Patryk has come down with a serious illness." Tom says in a serious tone. From the corner of his eye he see's Matt nod gravely. 

"W-What? But... how is that... cute?! Is it serious?" 

"Extremely."

Edd gasps. Matt covers a snort with a well-consealed cough. 

"What does he have?" Edd whispers. 

Tom sighs and places a hand on Edd's shoulder, his tone going dark, "Patryk has caught... the lovebug." 

Matt gasps dramatically and places a hand on his forehead, "Too young! What ever shall we do! Poor Patryk. The man is doomed." 

"Wait... wh–"

"Patryk has a crush on Paul, man," Tom laughs, "and it's fucking adorable. I've never seen him so flustered. He was such a blushing mess. He asked for _my_ advice. That's when you know he's got it bad." 

Matt is suddenly darting away from the kitchen with an urgent call of, "I need to text him!" 

Tom's arches one eyebrow, "Why do you have his number in the first place?" 

"I have all my friend's numbers!" He calls from the back of the apartment. 

"You don't have mine." Edd says. 

"Yes I do!" 

"Wh–How in the hell...?" Edd looks up at Tom with an incredulous expression, "I've only known him for a day!" 

Tom just shrugs, "He's Matt. You'll get used to it." 

Edd nods unsurely, then says in a serious tone, "What do you think we should do about our "poor friend" Patryk?" 

Tom laughs, and clears his throat to hide it, "There's only one medical solution, I'm afraid." 

Edd lifts his eyebrows, "Annoy him endlessly until he makes a move?" 

"Hell yes." 

"Then let's go." 

Edd jumps up and grabs his green hoodie, pulling it over his head. He tries to comb his fingers through his nest of hair, but gives up after a few tries. Tom snickers. 

Edd glares and attempts to flatten the mane, "Matt, you coming?" He calls. 

"Yeah!" The redhead comes bouncing into the room a moment later, "I texted Patryk to ask if we can meet Paul. He told me to tell Tom that he's a horrible secret-keeper, and his punishment is an extra twenty minutes for the next appointment."

Tom shrugs, "Worth it." 

Edd exits the room first and the other two follow quickly, all excited to see Patryk's new love interest. 

They're stopped when they turn the corner into a huge croud of people. 

The people are all wearing the patient scrubs, except a few who have on the more colorful nurse and caretaker scrubs. They are all standing uniformly in the hall facing away from the small group. Some shift every now and then, but mostly they are deathly still. 

"Woah, what's the party?" Edd asks.

"Party days are on Saturday." Matt replies quietly. "I don't know why these people are here." 

"Well we've got places to be," Tom grunts and begins pushing towards the crowd, "EXCUSE ME!" 

Suddenly, the mass turns and faces the three men. Edd's gasp and Matt's shriek echo in the hallway. 

"This is horrible!" Matt exclaims.

"You think?!" Edd yells "They–"

"–Didn't tell me there was a dress up day! Outrageous! I want to join!" Matt looks personally offended, and he quickly scans the crowd, "Mildred! Geraldo! Why didn't you tell me! Although I must say that zombie makeup is very well blended. Did you all do this yourselves? Honestly, I could have helped wi– _AH!_ " 

Tom is suddenly standing in front of Matt, holding a large plank of wood. Geraldo is on the floor, groaning. 

" _Tom! How could you!_ " He gasps. 

"Matt, buddy. Look around for a second." Tom's voice is serious, and Matt casts his gaze around the room, now noticing how much fighting is going on. Edd is in front of them holding a metal pipe above his head, slowly backing towards the two. And the people–

What's wrong with them? 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, "Oh." One already jumped Edd. We need to get out of here. Come on." He grabs Matt's hand tightly and reaches for a handful of Edd's sweatshirt. They turn in unison and run at full speed down the hall. 

"Where are we gonna go?!" Edd calls from the back of the group. 

"I have an idea, just follow me!" Tom yells back. Edd and Matt nod and continue running after Tom, avoiding the zombies that roam the halls. They eventually take a left, and Edd realizes where they are. 

"The... west... hall?" He pants. 

"It's probably... the safest... place in the building." Tom is breathing heavily too, sweat building on his forehead. 

Matt seems fine when he speaks, "Yeah, this hall is higher security. They keep patients here who are kind of... dangerous. Otherwise it's incredibly safe." 

When they push the doors open they're met with another large room. It reminds Edd of the living room on the other side of the building, except for some differences in furniture. There's a large couch, and no extra computer room. A man sits near the door they came through, dressed in a uniform that suggests that he is some kind of security. 

The man stands when they enter. "Woah, woah, can I help you, fellas?" His heavy American accent fills the room. 

Tom takes a moment to catch his breath, leaning on his knees and holding a finger up. Edd is in somewhat of the same position. 

Matt steps forward, barely having broken a sweat, "Yes sir! There's zombies outside. We were getting chased by them! Dozens. And all patients." His tone is dark and serious. "We came here because it's safer than the rest of the building. You can help us board it up! Do you own a gun?" 

The man blinks, then bursts into laughter. 

"Zombies? What do I look like, boy? I'm no idiot. If you want to meet other patients in this hall, you'll have to just schedule a meeting. What's your name?" 

Matt's brow furrows in frustration, "My name is Matt. This is Edd and Tom." He motions to the two, who wave back tiredly, "And why would I want to do that? There's zombies outside!" 

"Alright, listen here boy–"

"I'm 23."

"–I don't know who you think you are, but this isn't some sort of prank-fest we run around here. This place is serious business. I have a job to do. I protect the people in this hall, and I protect anyone who comes into this hall, and right now I don't think you're doin' too hot. So, leave, before I throw you and your friends out myself." He crosses his arms and stares down at the three. 

"But–" 

_Crash._

The doors behind them burst open, revealing a hall filled with the zombies. 

"SHIT!" Tom yells, then turns and bolts to the other side of the room, grabbing the other two men by the hands as he runs by. They reach the other side, only to find that the doors are locked. 

Edd spins around and finds the security guard. "Please! You have to help us!" He pleads. 

"You don't have to tell me twice, son!" He begins running across the room too, gun drawn and aimed. 

"I'm not your so–"

"Grab those keys from my belt, I'll try to hold them off." He fires, shooting two of the zombies at the front of the crowd. 

Tom snatches the keys and fumbles to unlock the door. 

"Hurry up, kid! They're gettin' closer!" 

The lock clicks, and they quickly slip inside, shutting and locking the door again once they're all through. Edd slides down the door, while Tom leans against a wall. Matt grabs both of their hands and holds tightly. He's shaking, Edd notices. 

"Damn..." The security guard huffs. He's leaning on the far wall near a large painting of a blossoming tree. "How did this happen?" 

Tom looks up from the floor. "I don't know. There was one this morning, I think. I bumped into him in the hallway, but at the time I didn't really notice. They just kind of... appeared." 

"Shit..." The guard slides to the floor, hitting it with a _thump_. 

A wimper gets their attention. 

"I've only been here two days..." Edd whispers. Pulling his arms into his hoodie and wrapping them tightly around his knees. Matt drops his hand an instead begins to card his fingers through Edd's hair. 

"It's alright, Edd. This isn't a normal occurrence." He says and smiles half heartedly.

"But w-what are we gonna d–"

They all jump when a particularly loud banging starts echoing from the door. Edd let's out a cry of fear. 

Matt bends down beside him, not ceasing his petting. Tears are beginning to form in the man's eyes, and Matt feels his heart shatter. 

"I-I can't do this... I don't know w-what to... I need... I-I-I can't..." A sob racks his body, and Tom joins Matt's side. 

"Hey, Edd," Tom says softly. "It's Tom. Listen, have you ever seen a zombie movie?" 

Edd cries harder, but eventually manages to nod his head. 

"Sweet. So, you know how they end, right?" He turns his head to Matt, who catches on to the plan quickly. 

"The hero always lives! They go through ups and downs and twists and turns, fighting monsters and heartbreak. But they always win!" Matt says cheerfully. Tom nods and shows a smile. 

"Exactly. See, Edd? Zombies are easy. They're just silly dead people who chase after us. We have the brains. Isn't that right?!" Tom knocks on the door behind them, "Hello? Zombehs? Any brains out there? No? Shame." 

Edd breathes out a shaky laugh, which Tom considers a victory. He and Matt lean forward and wrap their arms around him tightly. 

"Edd, you're braver than you think." Matt says quietly. Edd sniffs. "Every day you fight battles. Even though they aren't heroic quests to fight dragons, or a space adventure onto an alien planet, you always win, right?" 

There's no reply, but the sniffling ceases. 

"And even if you can't win," Tom finishes, "We'll keep on fighting for you. Got it?" Edd nods after a moment, hair flopping over his eyes. "Awesome. Can you stand?" Another nod, and then they're helping Edd get his legs under him. His head is down, and his cheeks are tear stained, but he's otherwise fine, if a little shaken. 

"Where," He clears his throat and sniffs, "where do we go now?" 

The security guard stands, and the three boys jump, having forgotten about him, "There's another little living room towards the end of the hall, and an emergency exit door. If we can get outside, we can find some help."

"What are we waiting for then? Let's blow this joint." Tom steps forward and marches down the hall. 

Matt just shrugs and follows, grabbing Edd's hand again and gently pulling. 

Edd sniffs then looks up at the guard, "T-Thank you for helping. I know it probably didn't seem... real, at first, but it's great that you are now." 

The guard shrugs and gives a tight smile. "It's part of my job. When I see three kids come walkin' into my office panting and bug-eyed, talking about zombies, I may get a little suspicious, you know? I'm not about to just let anyone walk in here. It's a safezone." 

Edd nods, "That's understandable. What's you're name?" 

"I'm Carl." 

"Nice to meet you, Carl." 

"You as well. All of you. You seem like nice lads. I just wish it were under different circumstances." Carl adjusts his gun in his hand and scratches behind his ear. 

"Well, let's make the most of it!" Matt says, ever the cheerful one. "It may not be the best, but we're here! No one got hurt." He smiles brightly and squeezes Edd's hand. 

"Yeah, I guess that is a plus." Edd replies with a little smile.

"Hey, guys!" 

The three men look up to see Tom standing beside one of the doors. 

"Uh, don't you think we should help all the people in these rooms? We can't really just leave them here... right?" 

"Oh, at the moment there's only two patients on this hall. It's a small part of the building." Carl says, "But... I guess we should bring them with us. I don't know how long the doors down there will hold. Much less the room doors." 

"Alright, so which ones are they?" 

"505 and 520." He pulls out his keys and strolls to a door that's close by. The door frame is a nice light purple color, and the numbers are shiney gold. 

He knocks three times, then calls, "Coco! Are you in there?" They wait, but are only met with silence. 

"I think she had her appointment today... which means..." Carl sighs deeply and rubs a palm across his forehead. "Damn it." He says quietly. 

"Where's the other room?" Tom says anxiously. "We need to make sure we get as many people as we can, and I think we should hurry." He glances back to the main door, where the banging has been steadily increasing. 

Carl sighs again and drifts down the hall, before stopping at another door. The outline on this one is a light, pastel red with silver numbers that are also outlined in red. 

The guard knocks on the door loudly. 

This time there's the sound of movement. It's immediate, and it sounds like someone sitting up from a chair. 

The lock clicks, and the door swings open. Revealing even more red.

"Hello, Carl. What a nice surprise."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter because it's mostly exposition (i.e. learning new characters) and again, it isn't beta'd. Also, I apologize as my Norwegian is a bit rusty, I learned it about two years ago and I'm still trying to grasp the more complex language aspects. 
> 
> As always, thank you sooooo much for such amazing comments!!!!! I love you all and honestly they are one of the few things that keep me motivated! And they make me smile, so that too.

The heavy Norwegian accent echoes down the hall, and the three boys stare in amazement as the man steps more into view. He has light brown hair that forms two spikes at the front, and more spikes at the bottom that are half-covered by his red hoodie. Although Edd can see that he is also wearing the white scrubs underneath. The man's brows are pinched, and his eyes are tired. He has one earring in his left ear, and the other... 

Is completely scarred. 

Angry, pink scars cover the entire right side of the man's face, leading from the bottom of his chin, all the way up to his hairline. His right ear is also burnt, and his eye seems to be clouded over. Edd finds himself gazing at the eye. Is this man blind? What horrible accident could have happened to cause this?

Edd catches himself and quickly looks away. It's rude to stare. 

"Tord, thank god." Carl sighs in relief, "Alright, this is going to sound weird but..." He takes a deep breath, and the other man lifts an eyebrow, "there may be a zombie apocalypse happening and we need to escape right now or else we'll get torn to shreds and eaten by the other patients." The guard visibly tenses his shoulders. 

The man, Tord, simply stares. 

"And... you want me to..." He says slowly, phrasing it like a question. 

"We need to get you out! And we need you to help us find someone who can do something!" Matt speaks up from the back, drawing everyone's attention. 

"Yes, of course. Who are you?" It isn't asked rudely, but the tone is harsh and untrusting. 

"I'm Matt!" Matt proudly smiles and steps forward, extending a hand to Tord, who reaches forward tentatively to shake it. "I have DID and I live in the back left wing, near the gardens. Have you seen the sunflowers Mary planted? They're beautiful." 

Tord's eyes soften slightly from their iron hold for a moment, only to reform again a second later, "I am not allowed to leave this hall. I haven't seen them. I apologize." 

"There's no need to be sorry! If we get the chance while we're escaping our possible death, we'll stop by! How about that?" 

Edd see's Tom cringe and snort out of the corner of his eye. Tord only lifts an eyebrow, "Sounds like a wonderful plan." He turns to the two other men, "And you are?" 

"Tom." 

"I-I'm Edd. Nice to meet you." Edd stutters out. How is Tom always so calm? How is Matt always so excitable? He feels his face redden and he shrinks into his hoodie. 

"You as well." He smiles kindly, and for some reason it helps. Tord then turns and addresses the entire group, darting his eyes around to each of them, "Now, do any of you know what caused this whole zombie thing in the first place?" 

"No, son, none of us know. Hell, I didn't know until about five minutes ago when these three came barging in with a horde of zombies behind 'em. Thomas here says they've been here since this morning. At least, the unhostile ones, if there is any." 

"Don't call me son."

"Don't call me Thomas." 

"Well, do you want to come with us to escape, Tord?" Matt asks over the two comments. 

Tord snorts, "Well, it would be kind of stupid for me not to. I'm not just going to sit here and wait to get eaten, am I?" He chuckles again and moves back from the doorway and into the room. The four men watch outside as he begins rummaging around the messy room. He moves around the area and with ome hand picks up blankets, strewn about clothes, and odd little knick knacks, only to grumble and throw them over his shoulder again.

"Uh, what are you looking for?" Edd asks. 

"Something that would probably help a lot since I need to actually leave my room for once." Tord grunts as he lifts a box filled with office supplies. He pours it out onto the desk on the left side of the room, then shakes his head and moves to the other side, where a twin sized bed sits, unmade. 

He gets to his hands and knees, and again reaches under the bed with one hand. 

"Ah HAH!" He cheers, and smiles confidently as he pulls his arm back. "I always lose this thing. Although I don't know how. I'm just messy, I guess. It gets cluttered when you don't leave and area for a while. I don't get visitors either, so there's no one to clean up for other than Carl here. Do you care Carl?" 

"Boy why would I ca–"

"But wow, I'm glad I found this thing." He holds up the shiny red object triumphantly, "My arm!" 

The three boys stare at it. 

"Y-Your... arm?" Edd says quietly. As he looks closer, he can see how one arm of Tord's hoodie is flatter. He doesn't move it, either. It's obvious now that he's noticed it, and he can't seem to take his eyes off the arm. It's chrome red, and each section of metal seems to be it's own separate part. When Tord shifts the fingers fall backwards, revealing a blue glass circle in the center of the palm. 

"What? Haven't you ever seen a prosthetic before?" Tord questions, raising an eyebrow. 

"Uh. Uh-Uh. N-No I haven't..." Edd struggles through his words. Embarrassment covering him like a blanket. He hunches his shoulders, looking away to the window, "I-I'm sorry..." 

"It's alright." Edd glances back at him, and Tord gives him a small grin, "Doctor Dudulewicz says that I'm only one in three people here with a prosthetic." He looks down at the arm and beams, "I made it myself." 

"Woah! You made that?!" Matt screeches, slapping his hands to his cheeks. 

"Well, yes. I tinker around sometimes. I was actually in engineering school before–" He cuts off, going silent. His face grows dark and Edd feels an itch crawling up his spine. It's like he shouldn't be here. There's something wrong. 

It's gone in an instant. Tord blinks, the shadow disappearing and his demeanor changing back to the relatively pleasant one it was before. "Well, I'm all set." He stands and reaches under his hoodie, taking the arm and guiding it to his shoulder. There's a click, a beep, and then the fingers flex on it. The men watch in amazement as he moves the arm around, testing it's motion. He smirks at their reactions, "As amazing as I am sure this is, we have a bit of a situation on our hands. Where should we go? The back entrance on this hall, I'm assuming?" 

Carl nods. "Yep. Unless you feel like breaking a window." 

Tord's grin turns shark-like, and Carl glares. "Let me rephrase that. Unless you want to break a window and have to face Patryk." 

The three boys watch in awe as Tord, who has thus far shown only strength and power, cowers unto his hoodie. He shakes his head slowly and wraps his hand around his arm. 

"That's what I thought. You don't want extra time, right? So behave. Capiche?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. Let's hit the road, boys." He snaps his gun out of his belt and exits the room. Tom and Matt follow quickly, eager to finally leave the area and get some help. 

Edd stays staring at Tord. 

"Edd, right?" Tord asks when he notices Edd hasn't moved. 

Edd nods. 

"Silent type. That's nice. I've always been louder, but I'll try to keep down for you." Tord grins and starts walking to the exit, motioning with the robot arm for Edd to follow. He keeps talking, even as he turns around, "I can already tell why you're at Mary's Hallow. Tom too. Matt is... harder to decipher. I'm assuming he's on some heavy medication for his. Or maybe it doesn't last all of the time? I'll have to ask. You know Matt should really wear more sunscreen when he's outside, he has a pretty bad sunburn. I'm actually suprised that you and Tom have made it this far without some sort of complete meltdown, considering your illnesses, I know that I wou–" He blinks and abruptly stops. 

Edd stares up at him. 

Tord stares back, his face devoid of any emotion other than _fear._

"I..." He starts, and his eyes grow wider, more crazed. "U-Unnskyld... Uhh... I-I am... so sorry... I..." 

Then he does an about face, and briskly walks away. Matt's voice echoes down the hall, and Edd listens as Tord's footsteps recede towards it. 

Tord... is odd. To say the least. But he's in Mary's Hallow. So he can't be that bad, right? 

Yeah. 

Edd breathes in and hurries to catch up to the group, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. 

He's making friends. Even if they aren't the most... conventional... of people. He likes them a lot. Matt has his funny quirks. Lilly is sweet and kind. Tom is serious and helpful. Patryk, who is probably the only person who Edd trusts fullstop with his problems and secrets. Carl believed them, then chose to help them. Jon, back at the store, who helped him find Mary's Hallow and showed him that he doesn't need to hide anymore. 

And Tord...? 

He'll work on that one. 

"Come on, Edd! The coast is clear if we want to go now." Matt calls down the hall. 

"Coming! Sorry!" Edd hustles to the group, watching as Carl places his key into the lock. The door clicks, and there's an automated beep that echoes in the room. 

Carl pushes it open slightly, then turns to look past Edd at the back of the group. The three turn to see Tord with his hands bunched inside of his hoodie sleeves, face half-covered by his hood. 

"Ya alright, son?" The guard asks quietly. 

Tord nods once, pointed hair bouncing. "Fine." It's hushed and raspy, and Edd's forehead creases in concern. 

"Tord?" He says before he even knows he opened his mouth. The other boy looks up, burned out face hidden in shadow. His eyes speak for him, and Edd feels a stab of empathy.

"You... you don't have to come, if you, uh, don't want to." Edd speaks softly. 

Tord's eyes remain kind, but he grits his teeth, grinding out, "I'm fine. I... I can handle this." He sighs through his nose, "Let's go, please." 

Carl looks between the two, scrutinizing Tord for a moment before nodding and turning back to the door. The five men step outside and assess the area. When it's deemed clean, Carl silently motions for them to follow him, and the unit begins to creep along the edge of the building. 

At one point, Matt leans forward and whispers in Edd's ear, "Hey, Edd?" 

"Yeah?" Edd whispers back, not taking his eyes off the surrounding bushes. 

"Do you think Patryk's okay? And Jacqueline? What will happen to everyone else?" He inhales a sharp breath, "What about the people Carl shot?" 

Edd feels a stab of anxiousness. A nervous bolt that rattles his bones. Matt isn't trying to make him anxious, he undoubtedly has his own nerves to deal with as well. 

But he is _not_ cut out for this. 

"Patryk is fine. I'm sure of it. He's pretty tough when he needs to be." Tom says quietly over his shoulder, casting a glance at Edd, who gives a grateful smile, then fixing his gaze on Matt. "Jackie can definitely take care of herself too. She's tough." Tom sighs, "As for everyone else... I don't know, Matt." 

Matt's forhead creases in worry and his eyes grow wide. 

"Oh, no, Matt–" 

Edd startles when he hears a loud sniff behind him. Matt's eyes are wet, and his breathing is heavy. His face goes red, freckles suddenly less stark against his usual pale skin. 

Tom pushes past Edd gently and hurries to Matt's side while Edd, Tord, and Carl stand to the side. 

"Matt, please, it's okay. Just breathe. In and out, with me, okay?" Tom demonstrates by expanding his chest slowly. He takes both of Matt's hands in his and squeezes. 

"It's okay, Tom." He whispers, "I'm just so worried about all of those people. They're our friends. Our neighbors. What... what happens if they..." A shiver visibly runs up his spine and he squeezes his eyes shut, spilling more tears. 

Movement behind Edd grabs his attention, and suddenly Tord is in front of him, his short, small frame— shorter than Edd, even— pushing past Tom. 

Tord reaches up and grabs Matt by the shoulders, speaking seriously and quietly, "Have you ever seen Return of the Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell?" 

Matt's face contorts into confusion at the question. Tom only grunts.

"What does that even have to do with this? That stuff is all fak–"

" _Have you seen it, Matt?_ " Tord asks again, ignoring the scowling Tom. 

"Of course," Matt sniffs, wiping a few more tears off his cheeks, "It's a classic." 

Tord relaxes and his hands slip down to Matt's biceps. "Fantastic. Just think of how silly those movies are. Think of... silly monsters. It's all fake. We're going to find help. Edd, Tom and Carl will make sure of that." He pats Matt's shoulder a few times, "I will too, I promise." Tord stares up at the taller man, determination written on his features. A few seconds go by, and a small smirk graves Tord's lips, "I'd do just about anything to protect _that_ face." 

The three bystanders stare in amazement as a dark blush spreads across Matt's cheeks. 

"Holy shit." Tom whispers. 

"What?" Edd asks at the same volume. 

"No one can make Matt blush like that. I've just... never seen it happen. Only he can make himself blush." 

Edd raises an eyebrow and watches as Matt begins to _stutter._

"T-Thank you! Wow, uh, t-th-thanks!" The blush spreads to his ears. 

Tord notices and winks lewdly, "Anytime, handsome. _Elsker neglene, forresten._ " 

Matt's eyes are more or less hearts at this point. He's practically drooling. Tom grimaces and rolls his eyes.

"Oh, come on you weirdo kids, we need ta get movin'." Carl grunts and stomps forward. 

"Thank god." Tom groans and follows quickly. 

Tord smirks up at Matt again then struts away. The taller man swaying on the spot. Edd snorts and walks over to him, reaching up with one hand and snapping his jaw closed. 

"Smooth, man." Edd grins. 

Matt shakes his head and breathes shakily, "I think I'm dead, Edd. What just happened? Is this real?" His voice sounds distant, dreamy, and Edd laughs. 

"Totally real, and you just got hit on by a short angry cyborg." 

Matt sighs and one side of his mouth lifts up. He whispers quietly, "Awesome." 

"Come on, lover boy, we need to catch up." Edd laughs again and gently pushes Matt into walking. 

"He called me handsome. Did you hear that, Edd? Wow." 

Tom grunts ahead of them and makes a sour face. Edd only laughs harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey, look at that Tortt 
> 
> Tell me if you want me to continue with this ship, because I sure ship it, but I want to hear your opinions as well!!! Thanks lovelies :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an oddly difficult time writing this chapter? Writers block can be a BEEOOOTCHHH 
> 
> Also, I made a tumblr account for this fic! I know it isn't that popular but I have so much fun writing it and talking to you guys in the comments! I decided to spread my AU a little more! 
> 
> http://www.totallymentalau.tumblr.com

"Don't move." A metal hand darts out and Edd feels the full force of it on his chest. 

"Tord wh–"

" _Shh!_ " Tord snaps, and the group grows still. 

They had been crawling their way around the building, talking in hushed whispers and jumping at every noise. Somewhere along the journey Tord had made it to the front of the group, followed by Edd, then Tom, Matt, and finally Carl. The guard had put the gun down and flicked the safety on a few walls back, but he raises it again at Tord's startled warnings. 

Tord makes a motion for them to crouch and stay as he ducks between two bushes in front of them and scurries along the mulch. The group remains silent, except for each man's heavy breaths. Carl is hunched against the wall, gun at the ready and pointed in the direction Tord went. 

They wait for what feels like hours, but could only have been around two minutes. Each second that passes feels like another prickle on their skin. 

Tom is the first to break the silence, "Damn it." he says under his breath, and crawls forward through the bushes. 

Edd grabs his shirt and tugs him back, "What do you think you're doing?!" He hisses.

Tom's eyes narrow, "You saw how small Tord is. He's like a freaking child with how scrawny he is. I don't even know how he suddenly became the leader of the group. Like hell I'm letting that runt take charge." He turns back to the bushes and peaks through, "I'm going to help him, if he isn't already dead." 

Edd ignores the sharp intake of breath behind him. 

"No. We go together. Tord... I feel like he can handle himself." Edd says, lifting one shoulder slightly. 

"Why's that?" Tom asks, irritation filtering through his words. 

"I'm not sure... I just..." Edd sighs heavily, "Nevermind. Let's go." He let's go of Tom's shirt and turns to Matt, who nods determinedly, and Carl, who clicks off the gun's safety. 

"Fine." Tom grunts and weaves his way through the tall bushes and weeds. The party follows close behind, Carl making his way to the front of the group again, gun pointed steadily ahead. 

They shimmy past a large hydrangea bush, Matt stopping only to pick a few of the colorful flowers, which he delicately places in his pockets. Edd raises his eyebrows, and Matt only smiles brightly in return, reaching back to the bush and plucking a soft purple flower. He stuffs it in Edd's floppy hair just above his ear and gives him a thumbs up. Edd snorts and strikes a pose that he's seen in magazines. Matt laughs and quickly covers it with his hands. 

"Shut up, you weirdos." Tom hisses in front of them. He's smiling a little too, Edd notices, but only with his eyes. That only serves to make it more genuine. Edd grins back. 

These moments are nice. When they can just laugh like nothing is wrong. Edd hasn't really had close friends like this before. Friends he can goof off with who don't get offended or irritated. They laugh at his jokes, they're careful about his boundaries, they understand. He makes a quick mental note to thank Jon the next time he sees him.

"You boys are killin' me." Carl sighs, "Can't go two seconds without cracki–"

A branch snaps nearby, and they all freeze. 

There's scuffling, and Edd finds himself holding his breath. Tom crouches low, as if ready to tackle the next thing that moves. Matt grabs both of them tightly by the hem of their shirts. Carl moves in front, gun pointed. 

The shuffling intensifies. It gets louder, and closer. Grunting now accompanies it. 

"Shit. It's a zombie." Tom whispers. Everyone tenses, ready to move and strike at a moment's notice. Carl's finger moves to the trigger. 

The movement stops suddenly. There's no noise. Even the birds stop chirping. 

No one breathes. 

The bush in front of them crashes as a body is thrown through them. A shot echoes out and birds scatter through the sky. The boys jump, Tom pushing Matt and Edd back against the wall roughly. 

There's a groan, and curiously, a muttered curse. 

" _Goddamnit! You scared the shit out of me, boy! What the hell do ya' think yer' doin'?!_ "

Carl is yelling, and the three men quickly stand, ready for whatever it was. Whoever it was. 

There's another loud groan, and the person lifts their head up. Matt and Edd stare in confusion at the man. Tom tenses beside them. 

" _Paul?_ " 

"T-Tom?" 

"God, Paul. Shit, are you alright?" Tom runs forward and slides back to his knees beside the new man. He begins checking him over, searching for any injuries.

"I-I'm alright, just... just a little beaten up. You know?" The man, Paul, coughs heavily into his palm. 

"Wait," Matt says, glancing between Tom and Paul, "you mean, _the_ Paul?" 

Tom rolls his eye sockets and nods, Paul only lifts a large eyebrow. "I see I... have a... reputation." He huffs out. 

"Pft, you should ask Pa–" Tom shoots a look at Matt, who quickly realizes his mistake, eyes widening, "Uhhhh, Paper. The paper. There's a weekly newspaper at Mary's Hallow. It tells us about new residents!" Matt chuckes nervously. Edd facepalms.

"Riiiiiight..." Paul says. He coughs again, his chest heaving and arms beginning to spasm slightly. Tom glares at him in concern. 

"Really, man. Are you okay? Carl here didn't actually shoot you, right?" Paul shakes his head and Carl grumbles under his breath about "Being lucky he isn't a good shot when there's bushes in his way." 

"I–" He heaves another deep breath, a loud cough escaping on the exhale. His forehead is beaded with sweat and it plasters his hair there. "I'm fine... I promise, I just..." Anther cough, "I got caught by a few of them. I tried to fight it, but one got me. It... It's not bad. I-I'm fine." 

Tom's face darkens, "What do you mean, one got you?" 

Paul glances at him nervously, "I-I-It... I... uh..." 

"Spit it out, boy!" Carl growls. 

"It... bit me, okay?" 

Tom reels back, a horrible emotion taking over his features. It's dark, and sad. It's angry too. 

"Where." He hisses. 

"Wha–"

" _Show me where, Paul._ " Tom isn't screaming. He isn't yelling. But he might as well be. His voice is like dry ice, hard and cold and smoking. It sends chills down Edd's spine.

Paul freezes and slowly, shakily, reaches a hand up to the top of his sweater, near the neck. He latches a finger under it and pulls. 

Edd gasps, Matt whimpers and covers his mouth, Tom is silent. 

"You really are in a shit ton of trouble, boy." Carl whispers. 

Paul glares in confusion, "I'm thirty."

"That's not the point. Listen, we need–"

"Stop." Tom interjects harshly, anger slowly seeping into his voice. He's staring at the bite mark. It's red and swollen, blood covering Paul's entire shoulder, and Edd now notices that Paul doesn't seem to move that arm as often. When he does he flinches in pain and his arm does this weird shaking. Tom takes a deep, shaking breath and fixes his empty eyes on the man, "Paul... how are you feeling? And don't give me any of that "I'm just tired" bullshit. We all know that excuse here. How do you _really_ feel?" 

Paul stares back with wide eyes, his mouth working but no noise escaping. 

"Paul." Tom's tone is forceful. 

"I feel sick," Paul says, barely more than a whisper. His arms wrap tightly around himself, "It's like my skin is crawling. I-I feel like there's something wrong. In my blood." 

"What. Happened." Tom grits out. Edd once again feels shivers run up his spine at his tone. 

"I was with P-Patryk... he-he was showing me the kitchen... and the main cook... a really big lady... sh-she was pouring something into the soup. He asked her what it was, but she wouldn't respond. He told me he hadn't seen her before, that maybe she was new. He asked her name, a-and tried to-to see what she was m-making... but..." Paul's eyes look wet, but he doesn't cry. He's visibly shaking. 

Matt steps forward and places a hand on the uninjured shoulder. He shushes the man, who lets out a small, dry sob, which leads him into another fit of coughing. 

"Where's Patryk, Paul?" Tom asks quietly. 

"I-I don't... know... she hit him with this huge spatula thing and took him..." Paul's hand shakes as he reaches up to his covered eye, picking at the bandages, "I tr-tried to fight her, but the whole kitchen started attacking. They were... they looked so... lifeless. Like the zombies, but less dead. It's like she was controlling them." He sits up straighter, gathering his composure again. "I lost Pat somewhere in the commotion. After I finally got away from the kitchen, I went through the cafeteria, but people were beginning to turn already. A few went after me and trapped me in a corner... that's when it bit me." He looks between the four of them, "It was their food. The cook did something to their food. We didn't get turned because we didn't eat breakfast in the cafeteria." 

Carl sighs, "I've never been more glad ta' live off of doughnuts and coffee." 

Tom ignores him and grabs Paul's shoulder, just below Matt's hand. "We'll find him, Paul. Now we know where to start looking. We can stop this." Paul nods and wipes roughly at his eyes once with his sleeve, face forming into one of hard determination. 

"I know." His eyes drift to the far side of the building and off into the trees, "I know Pat's fine. He's tough. He'd do well as a soldier." He chuckles once, "Weird thing is, I've only known him for a day and I already have a lot of opinions on him." 

Matt, who had let his hand drop earlier, now pushes past Tom and crowds into Paul's space. The poor man reels back, eyes startled and concerned. 

"Opinions?" Matt almost squeals, "Like what? Handsome? Funny? Do you like h– _mmmph!_ " A hand is suddenly slapped over his mouth, and Matt is pulled back into Edd's green hoodie. 

"Don't, uh, mind Matt here. He just... _really_ likes to meet new people. Wants to make friends with everyone! Heh..." Edd resists making a disgusted face as Matt sticks his tongue out and licks his fingers in retaliation. 

"Uh, alright." Paul's eyebrows draw together and he scratches idly at his bandages. 

"Alright boys, we need to get a move on." Carl says quietly. "Hey, Paul, did you happen to see a really small, angry boy go by here? Red hoodie? Face all messed up?" 

Paul shakes his head, "No, sorry. He with you all?" 

"Yeah. His name's Tord. He went to scout ahead, but he didn't come back. He probably got distracted or something stupid like that." Tom grumbles. 

"Alright," Paul coughs roughly, this time he has to breath afterwards before speaking again, "I'll help you guys look. Then we can finish looking for Pat." 

Matt pulls Edd's fingers away and glances up at him, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "He calls him Pat. No one calls him that. It's like a cute couple nickname thing. IT'S JUST SO CUTE I CA–"

Edd's hand returns full force and he smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way when Paul and Tom look back. Paul shrugs and keeps walking. Tom puts two fingers to his eyes, then points them back at Matt, who giggles. 

The giggling stops abruptly, and Matt freezes. 

Edd glances down worriedly, "Matt?"

Matt is staring up at him, eyes wide and fear stricken. He's suddenly scrambling away from the group, moving until his back is pressed against the wall. Tom hears the shuffling and turns. His eyes widen too and then he darts to Matt's side. 

"Tom. _Tom._ " Matt says quietly. Then he's pressing his face into Tom's white scrub shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. 

Edd meets Tom's eyes and he mouths _Preston._ Edd nods and sits back. 

Carl and Paul, who had gotten ahead of the group by a few bushes, circle back again. Edd can tell that both have a lot of questions, but they're smart enough not to ask them now. Tom looks grateful for that as he softly shushes Preston, helping him get his breathing under control by rubbing large circles into his back and neck. 

"Hey, Pres, hey buddy. You good?" He says gently, not unlike the tone you'd use for a cornered animal. Preston nods and attempts a smile, which quickly fails. Hey, at least he tried, Edd can respect that. "Alright Pres, I'm going to explain where we are, okay? Don't freak out. It's a little weird. It's all some crazy adventure." Tom smiles encouragingly, and Preston nods again, shoving his face further into the space between Tom's neck and shoulder. Tom explains. He tells him about the zombies, and how it happened, and how they're now on the run to find Dr. Patryk. He goes on to tell him about everyone in the group and how Matt met them all. Preston has stopped shaking by the end of the stories.

He sits up straight, still keeping a hand firmly grasped in Tom's. 

He looks between the three other men, and waves, "Hi, I'm Preston." 

Edd waves back enthusiastically, nervousness at meeting a new person seeping through only slightly, "H-Hello, Preston. I'm Edd. Matt's told me a lot about you. He says you can play drums really well." Preston only blushes in response, a shy smile spreading with it. 

His eyes travel to Paul and Carl. Carl speaks first, "Name's Carl, nice ta' meetcha'. I'm a security guard in the west wing." 

Paul gives a rough, yet kind smile, "I'm Paul. I don't really know anyone here, so we're in about the same boat." Preston stares at Paul and nods slightly, a small, genuine smile forming on his face. Paul gives another tight smile back. 

Edd hears Preston whisper into Tom's ear, "I like him. He understands." 

Tom whispers back, "Out of your league, bud." 

Preston shoots up in surprise and pushes a laughing Tom in the shoulder, eyes wide, "Not like that! You perv!" He exclaims. Edd laughs and watches as Preston's cheeks redden when he realizes his outburst. He crosses his arms tightly around his chest and pouts, "I'm just a kid, you butt." He sticks his tongue out at Tom, who mirrors it. 

"Yeah, I know, I know. A trouble kid, at that." He stands and pulls Preston by the arm to get him to follow Paul and Carl, then glances back to make sure Edd is following too, "How've the drums been going?" He asks. 

Preston's eyes light up and he bounces once, "I learned part of Saturday Night is Alright! I've been trying really hard to practice switching between the snare and tenors, but it's hard to when Lilly and Matt are here most of the time. I haven't seen you in like, a week!" Preston wraps his arm tighter around Tom's, "I missed you." He mumbles. 

Tom smiles softly, and Edd can't resist the grin that spreads across his face when Tom leans in and says quietly, "I missed you too, buddy." 

"But only a little." Preston says indignantly, "I have a reputation here that I have to keep up with. I'm ten and I'm more hip than anyone here. I'm so hardcore." He throws up a hand in a sloppy rock symbol.

Edd chuckles from behind them, "So you're ten?" He asks. 

"Yep! I'm the youngest," Preston grins, showing teeth, "I didn't even have to go to school for very long because Matt and Lilly learned everything for me! I'm super lucky about that. They baby me, though. And I don't like all of Lilly's girly things." He holds up his hand, examining the nails, "But Matt did do a good job. I can tell he did it because it isn't as neat as Lilly. He tried really hard, though." Preston smiles softly, "Isn't Matt cool?" 

"So cool." Tom agrees. 

Edd nods, "One of the coolest people I've met."

"You guys are cool too." Preston says quietly, "Tom has always been really awesome. He helped me adjust here. He's like the older brother I never wanted." 

"Gee, thanks. Glad to know I'm loved." 

Preston shoves him with a shoulder, "Shut up, you know what I meant. I'm an only child. It's pretty great." 

Tom waves a hand lazily, "Yeah, yeah, sure." 

Edd laughs at the encounter, carefully avoiding a small thorn bush that is growing in a nearby bed of flowers. The conversations die down, and the three of them slowly maneuver around the bush and the delicate flowers. Paul and Carl are quite a ways ahead of them searching through the foliage for any signs of where Tord could have gone. 

"Edd! Matt! Tom! Ya'll will want ta' see this!" Carl's voice calls quietly from the other side of a large Austrian Pine. 

The three hustle around the side of the tree almost running Paul over with their enthusiasm. 

"What is it–Oh." Edd stops short, a small breath falling from his lips. 

"Shit..." Tom whispers. 

Preston leans over and tugs gently on the sleeve of Edd's green hoodie. Edd can barely tear his eyes away as he makes a small "Mm." 

"I'm really confused. What are we looking at?" He asks quietly. 

Edd's forehead creases. It isn't Matt. Preston doesn't understand. He wouldn't know. Poor boy must be so confused about everything. He's been following them, lost and probably scared out of his wits. The only reason he trusts any of them is because he knows Tom. And he's ten. Edd wonders why, and how, Preston came around and why he's ten. How old is Lilly? All three of them obviously have some forms of innocence about them. 

Which is why Edd feels so bad when he tell's Preston, standing in front of a red, blood soaked piece of fabric. 

"That's Tord's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUUUUUNNNN (dun... dun...)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter because I love all of you so much <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Just an FYI because I got an ask on the tumblr about it  
> If anyone wants to make fanart or anything about this fic, by all means go ahead!!! I would absolutely love it!!!!!! Just be sure to credit and tag me/send it to the tumblr because I want to see it! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is _pain._ It's like needles up his arm, his face, in his head. His head is pounding and it hurts to breathe. He doesn't dare open his eyes yet, because he knows that when he does it will only increase the aching behind them. 

He's learned from years of experience that when you wake up in a place you don't know, with a skewed memory, you don't move. Don't wake up and groan, don't even shift to get more comfortable. He was first taught this when he was only fourteen. He'd ran away from the foster home again. He always did. They were stupid. They didn't understand. He had spent the night in a back alley and woken up the next day in a warehouse. Those druggies hadn't been the most welcoming of people. 

So he listens, straining his ears to pick up on the slightest of sounds. There's scraping somewhere, like someone mixing in a pot. Further than that there's the slight hiss of a stove. A high pitched voice is humming a soft tune that he vaguely recognizes. 

He files all of that information away, then focuses on his other senses. 

He smells a variety of foods. He now goes to assume he's in a kitchen. Probably the cafeteria at Mary'a Hallow. _Hopefully_ at Mary's Hallow. It would kind of... really suck if he were somewhere else. His feet are chained to the steel chair he is seated in. He sighs internally. He did _not_ feel like getting kidnapped today. 

The humming has stopped. 

" _God morgen,_ Tord!" A cheerful voice rings out in front of him. He still doesn't move, focusing instead on keeping his breathing even. 

Footsteps draw closer, "Oh, there's no use in trying to fein it now. I know you're awake." The voice is an American accent, and the bright tone seems fake. It's too sweet. Sickly honey and rotten teeth. 

_She knows now. Look what you've done. She's like mother._

_Of course she does. You moved. You're the reason. She's going to kill us._

_Open your eyes._

_No don't!_

_She knows anyway. Just do it._

_Not a good idea._

_You never have good ideas. Diseased._

_Very broken._

_So very, very broken._

He slams down on the thoughts quickly, gathering his confidence, then slowly opening his eyes.

His vision swims, and he snaps them closed again, trying to will away the drumming behind his skull. His right eye doesn't work as well anyway. He's nearly blind, actually, but it never _hurts_ like this. What did this woman do to him? 

"What the fuck..." He mutters, and tries to lift his hand to rub at his temple. 

He has no hand. 

His right arm is _gone._

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He exclaims, and quickly reaches up with his other hand to feel for where it could be. His eyes snap open again, and he searches around the large room in a panic. 

"Quiet, darling. The arm is safe in my keeping. I just couldn't have you doing any weird robot tricks on me, now could I?" The too-sweet voice says again. He raises his eyes and focuses on where it came from. 

A woman steps out from a dark corner across from him. She's tall, stocky and wears all black other than a white apron tied around her back. Her dark brown hair is tied back into a loose bun, and her masculine face is curled into a smirk. Tord considers her, scrutinizing every feature and filing it under the "Weird Kitchen Lady" file. 

He keeps his face closed off, not showing any of the fear or distrust that he feels. When he speaks his voice is monotonous and droning, "And to who do I owe the pleasure?" 

The smirk grows, and she takes a few more steps closer, leaning a hip against the counter, "I am, as a lot of people would call it, a witch. I prefer sorceress. Dark sorceress might be more accurate. I'm not into the whole healing and unicorns stuff. More like, say... making people into the undead?" 

Tord stares, part of his carful facade slipping. 

The witch giggles, "I expect reactions like that. It's actually quite calm compared to some others I've seen. Magic isn't very... known? I mean, not real magic. It's all either hoodoo or abra kadabra in people's minds, but it's so, so much more. Watch this." 

She lifts a hand, holding it still in the air as her eyes loose focus and her mouth parts. The lights flicker slightly and pans nearby clatter. 

Tord watches, amazed and horrified, as a large bush springs from the tiled ground. He carefully hides this behind a cement mask. He won't let any other emotions slip through. He can't let her know anything. He needs the upper hand. 

_Yes. Good. She can't know._

_She already does._

_Is someone behind you?_

_She already does._

_You are understanding. Just need to keep it here._

_She knows._

_She does._

"Really?" He says, tone scornful. He strains to keep his face neutral, not letting any of the discomfort show, "All of that riling up just to grow a plant? Great fertilizer you've got there." He scoffs, "I've seen better magic at carnivals. Show me a card trick and I'd be more impressed." 

He watches as her pleasant face slowly morphs into rage. Her cheeks grow red with it and her fists clench at her sides. He allows himself that small victory. 

He decides to continue, "I don't even know your name. That's just bad manners. You took my arm, you should at least buy me dinner first." He grimaces and rolls his eyes. 

There's practically steam shooting from her ears. Her entire face has gone red in anger. 

"You want to see real magic?" Her calm, sweet voice contrasts her appearance, and Tord realizes that maybe he shouldn't have poked the bear with the stick. Possibly not his best plan ever. "I will show you real magic." 

She snaps her fingers, and a small bird cage appears, floating in mid air. A creature moves around inside, but Tord is too far away too see what it is. 

She grins and it reminds him of a shark in dark waters, "Real magic, as people don't know, cannot be seen. It's a feeling. It flows through my veins like poison, and I love it. Real magic can alter reality, if used correctly, as I have." She motions to the bush, "I can birth things from nothing." She then picks up an apple that's laying in a bowl nearby. She examines it closely, and takes a small bite from it. "And I can kill in an instant." Tord blinks, and the apple is rotten, brown and disfigured. 

Her eyes lock with his, "And I can alter what already is." The cage floats forward, and he finds himself leaning back, straining against his confines to escape what could be inside it. He hears the woman laughing. Cackling. He won't admit that he's scared. He won't admit anything. 

But he will say that he is shaking.

The cage is right there. He could touch it. Reach his one arm out and grab it, but he won't dare. 

She's still laughing, "Go ahead," She hisses, "Take a peak. I think you'll appreciate this _card trick._ " 

He pushes aside his fear. He's been through worse than this. He's been stabbed and punched, mugged and burned. He's watched his family... 

He has seen people murdered. He's killed. 

He will not let some stupid witch make him shiver in his boots. 

_She took his favorite red hoodie._

He leans forward quickly, and trains his eyes into the cage. 

But immediately regrets it.

" _Hva faen..._ " He whispers hoarsely. This isn't possible. It can't be. How the hell could she... why would she do this? She's laughing hysterically now, and it echoes through the room, filling it with the high pitched whoops. He looks at her, horrified. The small figure moves to the bars when it notices him, reaching through and grabbing at him. Tord reaches up with a hand, and delicately places a finger within reach. The creature latches on, looking up with a frightful expression. 

"Patryk." Tord says quietly. He thinks he hears a faint _Tord_ said back, but it's too quiet to hear. 

"How do you like it? Not my best handiwork, but still one of my favorites. I used to use this technique on kings to get them to do what I wanted. I think it's quite a good way to go for this one. He needed to step down from his high horse." 

Red fills Tord's vision, " _He never had a high horse, you bitch!_ " 

That only serves to make her laugh harder. "Trust me, he did. And I plan to tear his entire organization," She motions around the room, "To the ground." She steps forward and leans into his space until he can feel her breath on his skin, "I want it to burn." She leans back again and he feels like he can breathe better, "The zombies were just a distraction, you see. The main event will include you two." 

"What do you want with Mary's Hallow?" He asks darkly. "Why do you need me? Why him?" He motions to the cage, where a minuscule Patryk stands with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, shivering in fear. 

She glares again, "What do I _want_ with Mary's Hallow? I don't want anything. I _needed_ help!" She screaches, and both Tord and Patryk cover their ears at the noise, "I came here for help! I wanted to stop! But you," her crazed gaze shifts to Patryk, who backs against the bars, "You didn't do anything. You prescribed me medication, you offered me a room, and that was _it._ You did NOTHING!" She screams. Tord watches in sympathy as the small man shakes harder against the cage walls. He's saying something, but it's too faint for him to hear. 

The witch hears, though, and it only serves to make her angrier, "SHUT UP! I don't want your help now! I took your voice for a reason!" She waves her hand, and a small gag appears in Patryk's face. He startles and falls over, clawing at it. It doesn't seem to budge though. 

She giggles, "Magic is neat like that. I don't have to conform to the universes rules. It won't move, bug. Just like our good friend Tord's chair and chains." 

Tord's eyes widen a fraction, and he pulls against the chair, trying to shift it in any way. He stops when there's no results. She's right.

_Of course she is._

_It's because your stupid._

_You left the group. Wanted to play the hero._

_This is why we don't leave the room._

_You shouldn't leave the room._

_You always kill people._

_Kill yourself?_

_Kill your loved ones._

_You're trapped now. Because you're stupid. Always have been._

_Dropped out of school. Yes, she's right._

_You shouldn't have gone back to school. Toxic._

_Machines._

_Toxic. Poison._

_She's right._

_She is._

He flinches and pulls a shaking hand up to his head. Tears are burning behind his eyes and he hates the weakness he's showing. 

Patryk taps on the bars, looking up at him with understanding written on his face. The doctor is one of the few people who know what it's like. He understands Tord. He talks with him about his problems and describes what it's actually like, not the textbook version he gives everyone else. Carl knows too, but only half of it. 

His family didn't even know. 

_Didn't know anything._

_Nothing._

_Thats why–_

"Shut up." He hisses under his breath before he realizes that he said something. The witch glances up at him in mild interest from her spot across the kitchen. She has a bowl in front of her with jars lining the counter and a whisk in her right hand. A large tome sits open next to it. 

"Excuse me?" She asks slyly. 

Tord closes off his expression quickly. Patryk has a small arm through the bars, and he looks like he wants to do something, anything. 

"Nothing." He says quietly, and the witch rolls her eyes and shrugs before going back to mixing the weird ingredients. 

"Watch out," She says in a sing-song voice, "Or people will think you're crazy." 

Tord scowls, " _Faen ta deg._ "

She drops the whisk in the bowl and raises a hand to her chest, feining hurt. "Oh my, is that any way to talk to a lady?" 

"You're no lady. You're a monster." He snaps. Patryk nods silently in agreement. 

The witch shrugs again and turns back to the bowl. "Nothing I haven't heard before. Now, where's that virgin's blood... ah!" She pulls a large jar of red liquid towards her and pours in into the bowl. She stirs it, then adds some dry plants labeled "Hemlock". She's humming the tune again, and Tord realizes where he knows it from, then scowls. 

"If you're going to hum that _damn song_." He grinds out between his teeth, "Please, for the love of god, sing it in tune." 

She looks over her shoulder, "Oh? You don't like it?" He doesn't say anything back, but his posture speaks for him. She smirks and hums louder. For the second time, Tord's vision swims with red. 

She notices, and grins, moving closer until she steps around the back of the chair so he can no longer see her. Tord sits up and stiffens. "Sunshine lollipops and... rainbows everything," She sings quietly in his left ear. Her hand raises up in front of his face, and he watches, breath stuttering, as a knife materializes in her palm. "That's wonderful is what I feel," Patryk's eyes widen and his small fists clench around the bars of the cage, "When we're together." She takes the flat of the knife and drags it down the right side of his face. It flairs in phantom pains and he starts shaking. 

"Did you know," She says quietly, "That magic has some more... darker... secrets about it." The knife continues down to his jawline and he shivers as it leaves a chilled trail in its wake. "I can see things people don't want me to. Things that are repressed and hidden. People's deepest disires and darkest secrets." The knife stops at his adam's apple and he freezes, realizing now what she means.

She cackles, "Thats right. I know what you've done. I know that your mind is constantly in a battle. I know that you see things that aren't there. I know you think that you're crazy. You think you can't be saved." She lifts another hand and delicately runs it through the hair on the side of his head. "I know how you got your scars, and the event leading up to it." She leans in close to his ear and he grimaces, not daring to lean away for fear of the knife at his throat, "Your parents were concerned. You couldn't control yourself. I get it. I killed mine too." She whispers, her cold breath making the hair on his neck stand on end.

His eyes burn, and his breathing becomes rough and labored, "You don't know me." He says through is teeth, but his voice is not as forceful as he had hoped. It sounds like a child's. Scared and weak. He hates it. 

She sighs and tugs his hair, angling his neck to the side, "Oh, Tord. I know you better than you know yourself." The knife and hand disappear and he relaxes slightly. 

Patryk is straining against the bars, frantically clanging on them, eyes wide. 

"I need to get some work done," She says, and Tord listens as her footsteps recede behind him, "In the meantime, Bug, would you like a friend?" 

Tord stiffens and Patryk stills, then frantically shakes his head. 

"Maybe you don't, but we don't always get what we want." She says darkly, and suddenly Tord feels a tingling on his skin. The tingling melts into an ache, and he groans. Patryk is clanging on the bars again, screams silent behind the gag around his head. 

Suddenly, the world shifts, and he feels like he's floating. The colors drain and he screams. 

It sounds like a squeal instead. 

The witch is laughing, but it sounds loud and echoing, too far away. He frantically glaces around, blinking rapidly. He feels weird. Wrong. His limbs don't move correctly. 

Something flies past his vision. It's behind him. _There's something behind him._ He thought the hallucinating had stopped. He turns quickly, and sees it again. 

He tries to yell, but it's only a small squeaking yelp. 

He tries to speak, but the same noise comes out. 

He raises his left hand, the only one he has, and screams again. 

_What are you?_

_Monster._

_What happened? The witch did something._

_It's how you've always been._

_New hands,_

_Claws._

_Fur? Bright, white fur?_

_Can't speak._

_Small._

_Monster._

_This is you._

_A wild animal._

_Monster._

"You look scared, Tord." A voice booms from above. Tord looks up and squeals, backing away frantically as a hand reaches for him. He tries walking on his legs, but it's awkward and the thing at the back of his vision blocks his way. 

He transfers to all fours, or all threes. His arm is still gone. Splendid. 

It's hard to move, awkward, and next the hand is grasping him by the neck with two fingers. He sniffs and gags, the hand smells like blood and horrible spices. It's picking him up, but he can't reach anywhere to attack, and his struggles only make him more disoriented. 

He's doesn't even notice where he is until he feels cold metal under him. He stops struggling and looks around frantically at the black, white and grey world. 

He's in a cage.

"Tord!" A voice says from behind him, and he turns quickly, the figure darting from the corner of his eyes. 

Patryk stands across from him. He's standing frozen, a hand covering his mouth and eyes wide. 

"What did she do to you?" He whispers. 

Tord tries to respond, "I don't know! I'm a monster! _What am I?!_ " 

All that comes out are grunts and squeaks. 

"Shit... Tord..." His other hand comes up to brush his bangs away from his face. 

A shadow looms over them, and they quickly turn to face it.

The witch stands over them, grinning. She cackles and the cage vibrates with it. 

"I removed his gag so you'll feel a little less alone. It's the little things, hm?" She waves a hand, and a small water bowl appears in the cage with them. "Get comfy, you'll be here a while, pets. My small bug and little mouse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy guacamole plot twists of the century


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, again, this chapter is un-beta'd.  
> I'll be sure to sent it to my beta as soon as I can, so expect a few changes eventually. I just really wanted to post for y'all!!! (I would beat myself, but holy guacamole am I tired) 
> 
> TW for minor character death and panic attacks.

The front lobby was packed. Zombies strolled through lazily, bumping into the chairs and scratching at the walls. A few Edd could remember seeing around the building in passing, but most of the faces were lost to him, and Paul seemed to be in about the same place. Tom, Carl and Preston knew them though. Carl kept saying things like "Oh no, not Girvina." or "Trent! That's a shame... a real shame..." Tom was getting increasingly more irate with each comment, his ears getting a slight red tint to them. 

"With all sorts of respect, Carl. Shut up." He said after the ninth or tenth round of "Aw, not Billy!"'s.

"Now listen here, son, I'm just sayin' it's real awful that all thi–"

"CALL ME SON ONE MORE GODDAMN TIME. I DARE YOU." 

Carl takes a step back, "Now look here. That's part of my culture. In the south we know everyone, and if I like ya' imma call ya' what I feel is suited. Got it?" 

Tom's fists clench and unclench at his side, a steady rhythm that portrays his irritation. "It's not culture, it's _annoying._ " 

"Woah, u-uh geez... guys, calm down a little... okay?" Edd steps in, holding up his hands in a placating manner, "I know this is... kind of a, uh, tense time right now but... we're all we've got." 

Carl and Tom look between each other, glaring. Edd rolls his eyes. Children. He's working with children.

"Whatever." Tom grumbles, "I just want some friggin whiskey."

Preston glances up from the back of the group and narrows his eyes, "Tom, no." 

"Tom, yes." He grunts, "I need a drink." Then he's pulling out a flask from his pocket and chugging. 

"Tom!" Preston and Edd yell in unison. Preston shoots forward and attempts to snatch the flask from his hand. Tom quickly pulls it out of reach, pushing Preston back with his other hand. "Tom! How could you?" the boy exclaims, "I thought you had gotten rid of that thing! You've been sober for so long!" 

Tom just shrugs, "Desperate times, buddy." 

"Yeah man, come on," Paul speaks up, "You weren't even gonna share?" He holds out a hand for the flask.

"Not you too!" Preston whines.

Tom grins, "I like this guy. You're Tom approved." 

"I'm what–"

A growl draws their attention back to the lobby and Tom quickly flicks the cap back onto the flask, earning another glare from Preston. A zombie has strolled through the front doors and is slowly making its way towards them. 

"Oh, no. Esmeralda..." 

"Oh, for the love of–"

" _Shh!_ " Edd snaps. The zombie is getting close now, and the group quickly huddles behind the bushes. It begins sniffing the air loudly, moving its head to awkward angles and twitching. 

Carl has his gun at the ready, but he doesn't shoot, finger dancing over the trigger. Edd could understand why. Carl knows these people. They don't know what happened to them, but inside these monsters somewhere could be the person from before. Shooting them would probably kill them, and monster or not Carl can't bring himself to do that. Edd's respect for the man increases; Carl has good instinct. 

"What do we do?" Preston whispers quietly to the group. The zombie begins to stroll away, and they all relax slightly. 

"We have three options." Tom says, he lifts one finger, "We could wait until all of the zombies leave, but that will take a long time, and we don't know how long this will last or if it's spreading. We'd be wasting precious time, but get there safely." 

Paul's head shoots up, "No, definitely not. Pat's in there." He says quickly. Everyone stares, and his face turns a bright red. He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest, looking sheepish. 

"Alriiiiight, so plan one is out." Tom says, putting up another finger, "Plan 2 is we rush in the lobby, guns blazing. This is probably the most dangerous one, so..." 

Edd speaks up, "I don't want any of us getting hurt. Isn't there another way into the building?" 

"No, son. All of the doors lock automatically from the outside. If we tried ta' break one open an alarm would sound and we'd probably get ambushed pretty quickly." 

"A fire escape, maybe? Could we break a window?" 

"Well, thats plan number three," Tom puts his fingers down and sits back against the bush, spiked up hair getting caught in some of the leaves, "Can't sit here, can't just run in, so we gotta bust in... semi-quietly. There's the side doors in the cafeteria, you know. We could smash those? If what Paul said is right about the kitchen, then it probably wouldn't hurt to check." 

Edd grins, they finally have a plan, a _good_ plan, and it's like a small weight has been lifted off of his chest. He realizes now how stressed and anxious he had gotten with everything that has happened. He takes a deep breath and unclenches his clammy fists, "A-And we won't have to worry about the alarms, because I bet you there's still zombies in there. Nothing to, uh, jump us when they're already there.

Tom nods. "Right. And hopefully, we'll be able to find Patryk." They don't miss how Paul shifts suddenly behind them. 

"Along with Tord, right Tom?" Edd raises his eyebrows. Tom rolls his eyes in response.

"Sure, yeah, fine. We'll find Patryk _and_ Tord, but I won't be happy about it." 

"That's the spirit, boys!" Carl claps Edd and Tom on the back, nearly knocking them over. They both turn and glare. Carl ignores them and stands, reaching a hand out to help Preston up, then turning to Paul. 

"Hey, Paul, ya' good with the plan– woah, boy, are you alright?" 

The three younger men turn quickly to see Paul doubled over on the mulch, his labored breathing quieted by his hand over his mouth. He's visibly shaking, sweat rolling down his forehead in waves with every shiver. His other hand comes up and begins scratching and picking at the bandages around his eye. 

"Son, if you need to throw up, go ahead. My momma always used to say it makes you feel so much better after ya' do. I would recom–"

" _Shut up._ " 

The dark growl echoes through the group, and they all freeze. Paul is shaking harder, and a few tears fall down his quickly paling cheeks. Edd wonders briefly whether or not they should be standing this close to him as a strike of fear shoots down his spine.

Paul whimpers quietly, drawing their attention, "I don't want to hurt you guys." He rasps, which immediately leads into another fit of coughs that has him folding over and hugging his chest. 

"Why would you hurt us?" Preston asks quietly. Paul stares at him, face crumpling, and curls up further. Preston turns to Tom and tugs his sleeve, "Tom, what's wrong with him?" 

Paul raises his head and meets Tom's eyes, a panicked expression overtaking his features. 

Tom gets the message and nods. 

_He doesn't need to know._

Tom turns back to Preston, "He's just got a nasty case of the flu. He had it before all this started, isn't that right, Paul?" Paul gains enough control and energy to shakily nod, giving a small thumbs up as an afterthought. 

"You're sick?" Preston says quietly. "Why did you come with us then?" 

Paul coughs into his hand, staring down at it after the fit ceases. Edd can tell there's blood in his palm, which he quickly wipes on his pants as stealthily as he can. "I didn't come with you all... originally... I... met everyone about... thirty minutes ago..." He coughs again, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the flow of painful tears. He drops his hand, and to Edd's surprise, he smiles up at Preston, "It's not a big deal... kiddo... just... just need some rest, yeah? I'll be fine after a little sleep. I..." He trails off for a moment, catching his breath. His eyes move around the circle and meet everyone else's. "I think it would be best if you all kept searching for Tord... and Patryk... without me. I'm–heh–I'm better off staying here and... and taking a nap." 

Edd suddenly, like a truck hitting him at full speed, realizes the gravity of the situation. Paul is dying before their eyes. He's dying, but there's a chance he's going to come back. He's going to come back a brainless monster. 

But he only just met him. It's unfair. It's horrible. Tears begin to well up in Edd's eyes, and he turns away quickly to hide them from the group. 

Tom, stoic as ever, places a warm, comforting hand on Edd's shoulder, leaving it there. 

Edd can no longer see Preston's face, but he can already picture the innocence written on it. He's too young to know. To experience a death like this and know the cause. To show him would be to ruin all of it. To take a hammer and smash it like cracked glass. None of them would dare. 

"Don't you... need chicken soup or something? Mom did that once for me when I got sick, and she gave Matt a blanket. She didn't know it was me, she just thought it was Matt. She didn't know Lilly either. Matt got a big purple blanket, he still has it in the apartment, if you want to borrow it none of us would mind. I'm sure Doctor Patryk can get you some medicine to help, too. He always has medicine for everything." Preston glances nervously around, "He's pretty cool. He helps me with all of my bad times. He can definitely help you too." 

Paul is staring at the boy, a dumbstruck expression on his face. Edd feels about the same. They seriously underestimated Preston. The boy is a genuine sweetheart. 

Paul chuckles, coughing and wheezing in between gasps, and ruffles Preston's orange hair. "I'll be fine, okay? Ju-just make sure you find Tord... and Patryk... please? I-I need to... at least... get to... kn-know him, you know? Heh." He coughs again, and the group watches in horror as a single trail of blood trickles from his nose. "Kinda thought....... h-he was cu... cute. Probably out of my league..." 

Carl turns quickly and places a hand on Preston's back, guiding him away from the scene. "Come on, son. He needs rest." 

"But–" He starts, then concedes, shoulders slumping. He turns back and waves as they march through the bushes, "It was nice meeting you, Paul. I'll see you later, okay? You seem pretty cool!" 

"See... ya... bud." Paul calls back hoarsely. 

Once they are gone, Edd is the first to slide to his knees beside Paul. The man, now without needing to keep up strength for Preston, drops. The shaking increases, until he's nearly spasming. His limbs are limp, aside from the tremors, and his head falls back onto the ground. 

"Paul? Paul! Shit, Tom, what do we do?" Edd asks frantically. He knows the answer already. They can't do anything. Nothing. They have to sit here, watching, waiting, as their newly found friend dies in the bushes. They don't know what will happen, if he'll get reborn as a zombie again, or if this leads to death and nothing else. There's plenty of possibilities, and none seem all too pleasant. 

Tom seems to sense this, and is smart enough not to provide a response, instead looking down at Paul with a blank face. 

The older man has tears in his eyes, and Edd can't tell if it's from the pain of the symptoms or something else entirely. 

"I... I wish I could... see my sister again..... a-and fly a plane. Th–" He coughs, and blood comes with it, staining his teeth red, "Tha's always been my... my dream....." He takes a shaking breath and Edd now notices that his voice is slurring, "Fl'ng... so damn cool. I w'nted ta be in... in the army or-or air force..... or s'mthin', yanno?" 

"Stop talking like you're already dead." Tom says firmly, his mostly calm facade cracking at the edges. 

"Stop... actin' l-like 'm not..." Paul sneers, which quickly turns into a grimace as another wave of pain wracks his body. 

Edd places a hand on his arm, "Shh, Paul. You need to stop talking. Save up energy, okay?" 

"Sorry... to, to say this, Edd, but...... I'm basic'ly dead at... this point." He smiles tiredly and pat's Edd's knee, "You're real' nice though..." His face grows serious for a moment, "I-I need to make sure... of somethin' fir-first." 

"Anything." 

"If, if I _do_ become... one of them... a-a zombie..... you... need to... to kill me. Okay?" 

" _What?!_ No, Paul like hell we're gonna–" 

"Tom." Paul says forcefully, a cough pushing it's way forward and making him curl up more, "If... you can't do that... then run. F'rg't ab't me... just... just..... run........" 

"Paul?" 

"Oh," Paul smiles tiredly, now directing his quickly glazing eyes to Edd, "And ca-can you t-tell... Pat..... I like his hair... and...... when I get back... we'll have th-that dinner... we..... we were talk'n 'bout...." 

"Sure, y-yes of course." Edd grabs Paul's hand and squeezes. "Just hang on okay? Just a little longer. Stay with us, Paul. Come on." Tom moves closer and places a hand over Edd's. 

"I'm jus'... real tired... 'kay? Hope you can..... fly 'n th' afterlife... heh..." 

"Don't fucking say that." Tom scowls, his hand tightening over both of theirs. Paul doesn't respond. Tom's grip increases, and Edd feels the bones in his hand creak. "Paul?" He asks, voice hard, "Paul, seriously." 

Everything is silent and still.

"Oh god," Edd hears himself whisper. It comes from nowhere, somewhere deep down, a part he didn't know existed. Or maybe he did. Maybe he forgot about it on purpose. Some broken, ugly mess that fills him suddenly. Those two words, it's all it takes. The darkness is suddenly consuming him. Just like it did before. He can't see, he can't hear. There's a ringing in his ears, and all he can look at is Paul's eyes. Brown. Warm. Dead. Dead. _Dead._ His head hurts. It's them. Again. All the same. They're dead again. Just like before. He's dead, it's Paul. No, it's them, the only people he's ever known that truly knew him. 

There's noises around him. They add to the ringing, and now he can't move. Paul's eyes are brown. His eyes were brown too. Edd's eyes are brown. It's the same. 

The noise is loud. It's in his ears, in his mind. Like bees. Pressure on his chest and he can't breathe. 

_"Edd–"_

That's him. He's Edd. Why can't he breathe correctly? 

Someone's talking, but he only hears bits and pieces of it. It hurts to listen. It doesn't hurt, he feels nothing. Everything. _"Please..... deep breaths......... just... down..."_

Tom. It's Tom. His friend. 

"T-T-Tom?" His voice is loud, it hurts his ears. Everything is loud. He stammered, why is he stammering so bad? He stammers a lot, right? It's his anxiety. He's been diagnosed with it. The therapists didn't help anything before, they told him "think happy thoughts." He remembers that lady. He cursed in front of her once, and she told him to say "discount" instead. 

He called her a discount as he slammed the office's front door. He was kind of proud of that moment. 

"Edd, yeah Edd, it's me." Tom is talking again, Edd can only see his outline. It's like the whole world is in a shadow. "Hey, hey, buddy. Stop doing that, okay?" 

"W-Wh-Wh..." What is he doing? He doesn't remember. His chest hurts, mostly his lungs. He's breathing a little harshly, but if he stops he wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. He wants to stop but he can't. 

"Edd, please, you're hurting yourself." Tom's voice is cracking. Maybe he has a cold? Edd raises a hand to his face, or maybe he doesn't, he can't feel it. Tom is holding his hand tightly in his own, there's blood on Edd's fingers. Why is there blood? He feels his heart beating faster. 

"T-T-To-Tom... I-I-Ple..." 

"Shit shit shit shit... _CARL!_." There's a shadow over him again, and he thinks he can make out Tom's hair. It's pointy sikes are outlined by bright blue, what a nice day outside. It hurts. 

_So broken._

The thought comes from nowhere, and he doesn't stop it. 

_They're dead, you know._

Yes. He does know. 

_Never coming back. You won't hear them laugh, watch them cry, see them dance. Gone._

"What is it, so– oh _fuck._ " 

More noises, and now Edd can feel his body moving on it's own. He doesn't want to move, he's crying and he just wants to lie here in the mulch and leaves. It would be nice to just stay here forever. Stay in the leaves and shake and sob until he passes out and sleeps. 

"Paul is dead, Carl... Edd saw him die and he started freaking out. I don't know how to help him!" Tom's voice is higher than usual, he seems scared. Is he scared of Edd? Edd hopes that he didn't do anything too bad, he just wants to never move again. 

"Shit..." Carl's voice is low, and the shadow of Tom's hair disappears to be replaced by Carl's combed back one. "We need to get him out of here–"

But he doesn't want to move. 

"–When you yelled like a dumbass you also told about ten zombies in the area where we are." 

"I'm sorry! What was I supposed to do?!"

"Don't apologize to me, boy, apologize to Edd here, because you're in charge of carryin' him." 

There's a moment where the world flips around, and Edd suddenly gets scared that he'll throw up what little he's eaten. He finally settles, and he realizes Tom is carrying him. His legs are thrown over one of Tom's arms, while the other arm supports his back. He finds himself curling up into the warmth of his friend's chest. 

"Where's Preston?" The rumbling is calming, and in different circumstances he feels like he could go to sleep with that. He's too... blank... to feel it right now. Too empty. A void. 

"Past the entrance and waiting by the cafeteria doors. He's in a tree." 

Tom sighs, and Edd feels it blow the stray hairs on his forehead, "Alright, let's go. Get ready, Edd. I don't know how much of this you're actually seeing or feeling, but I don't think this is going to be the most pleasant trip." 

The snarls of zombies fill the area, and they take off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: My best friend actually had an experience a few years ago with a therapist who told her to say "discount" instead of curse words. We still laugh about it to this day. What a discount, am I right???


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the sort of short chapter, and sorry about the wait! I've been way too busy to write lately, and this fic has been pushed to the back of my mind. Honestly this chapter has sat unfinished in my drafts for a while, but I only finished recently! 
> 
> On a sidenote, since I've gotten some questions about it, if you would like to make fanart or anything about this story, PLEASE DO. It would literally make my week. Also be sure to leave comments because they make me smile :) <3 You're all so awesome thank you so much oh geez

The loud clanging of metal echoes in the stone and linoleum room, forcing Patryk to cover his ears for fear of going deaf. He had already pulled his shirt collar up to cover them, but it wasn't nearly enough to block out the noise. 

"Tord!" He calls across the cage to the small, white mouse. The term "small" being used lightly. To Patryk, he's about as big as a small horse would be, were he normal sized. The mouse, or should he say, steed, turns around, dark red eyes still frantic and wide. Patryk feels bad for the boy; he's been like this for an hour now. As soon as the witch left he picked up the small food bowl with his newly gained paws and began rapidly beating on the bars. It rattles the entire cage to the point that Patryk thinks, were it not held by magic, it would break. 

"Tord, please, take a break. You and I both know it's magic. We know we can't break it by ourselves. There's no way we're getting out right now, and you're just wearing yourself out." He smiles slightly and pat's the place beside him. 

Tord takes a moment to catch his breath, waiting for his eyes to stop bulging, before giving a small squeak of annoyance and awkwardly trotting over to the human and plopping down on the cool metal. 

"I kind of wish she'd given you the ability to speak. I feel like I'm going to go crazy talking to you like this. Can you even understand me?" 

The mouse rolls his eyes and nods, tail whipping in agitation and narrowly missing Patryk's head. 

"Woah, watch that thing! You have an extra limb now, so you need to learn to control it." Tord's face only grows angrier at the mention of the tail, and Patryk laughs. "Sure, okay, maybe learn the whole 'I'm a mouse thing' first." 

A series of squeaks and grunts escapes Tord as he gesticulates wildly. 

Patryk nods, "Uh huh. Yeah. Yeah. Okay... I have no idea what you're saying to me." Tord stops mid-squeal and sits back, face dropping in defeat. They sit in silence for a moment, their breathing the only thing breaking it. Tord begins to admire the new body again. He keeps doing that, every few minutes. It's as if he suddenly remembers he is no longer human and has to check himself over to make sure. 

His arm is still gone. The witch didn't even leave him that. What a bitch.

"How does it feel, being a rodent, I mean." 

Tord looks up and narrows his eyes. He points an accusing clawed finger at Patryk as snarls and squeaks are thrown his way. 

Patryk raises his hands up in innocence, "I'm not trying to psychoanalyse you, promise! But... when my friend and patient gets turned into a mouse, I do tend to get a bit curious. Same rules as appointments, you don't need to tell, or show, me anything you don't want to." 

Tord stares for a minute, then sits back on his haunches. He looks so large sitting next to the doctor, but Patryk knows, were he normal sized, Tord would fit easily into his palm. 

It's strange being so small. He doesn't like it. He's always been taller than other people. He's 6'6", in fact. Now he's being looked down upon by one of his smallest patients, mouse or no mouse. Tord has always been around 5'4", now, by human standards, he'd be a monster. 

Tord squeaks to get his attention and Patryk refocuses on the main problems at hand. He extends a claw out, and lightly taps out a rhythm on the metal, staring at Patryk the entire time. 

The doctor smiles and nods. "You're clever, Tord. I didn't know you knew Morse code." 

Tord huffs and begins tapping again, _Sign language hard when no arm_. 

"How do you know sign language?" 

Mom was deaf.

"Ah. Well, what about Morse?" 

_Got bored_

Patryk snorts, "Of course you did." 

_You?_

The smile dies from Patryk's face and he feels a small weight grow inside of him, "I was in an army, once." 

Tord's face lights up, eyes widening and whiskers twitching. 

Patryk chuckles, "Really not that exciting, and I would rather not talk about it." Tord stares, waiting a moment before nodding and sitting back again. Patryk continues, "So, back to the question, how do you feel?" 

_no control_

"Over your body?" He asks, and Tord nods. 

_Everything weird. Can't move right. Scary. Generally ok tho._

Patryk nods and smiles, "Yeah, well, that makes sense. You have every right to be a little freaked out." 

_What about u?_

"Me? Tord, as much as I appreciate it, I'm really not the one with the problems today. At least I'm still human, albeit a smaller one." 

Wheezing squeaks emit from the boy as he taps out, _For once I am taller than u_

Patryk scowls, "Yeah, don't remind me. Even Edd will be taller. Even Hugo! The small one in the Eastern hall! He's 4'6"!" The laughter only gets louder. Patryk rolls his eyes and stands, brushing off his pants and crossing his arms. "On a side note, I think we need to figure out a way out of here." He shoots Tord a look, " _Not_ one that involves brute force. We aren't exactly body builders at the moment." 

Tord squeaks in affirmation and trots in a wide circle around the cage, staring at the surroundings and parts of metal. Patryk takes a moment to admire it as well. 

The cage, completely metal and without exits, is extended in the air by a long piece of rope hanging from the ceiling. It's positioned about five or six feet off of the ground, so even if they did get out, they wouldn't be able to go anywhere. There's a few counters, shelves, and chairs nearby, but otherwise the kitchen supplies seem to be on the other end of the room. The small ray of hope that Patryk had been holding on to slowly begins to shrink. 

Until the scattering of feet from behind him draws his attention. 

"Tord, you okay?" Patryk watches in concern as the mouse paces frantically from one side of the cage to the other, making the structure sway and jostle. "Woah, Tord, you're gonna make this thing... OH." 

As Tord runs by he rolls his eyes. 

"You sure you can run for that long without your arm?" 

Tord stops long enough to nod, take a long breath, and then continue. 

Patryk sighs, "Alright then. It's not like we have another plan." He waits until Tord is on his side of the cage, then picks up the pace beside him. With both of their weight on one side, the other lifts. Patryk now sees that Tord is aiming for a small spice shelf located on the closest wall and quickly readjusts his aim for it. 

Soon enough, they're out of breath and a few inches from the shelf. Patryk looks over at his friend, making eye contact and nodding once, then, on the next swing he runs as fast as he can, leaping through the bars and towards the shelf. 

For a terrifying moment he thinks he doesn't clear it. The sensation of falling fills him and he's left waiting for the sound of his body hitting the floor, Tord's screams echoing in the room. 

It doesn't happen, of course, and the next moment he sloppily rolls onto the shelf. Instead of screams it's only cheers and small squeaks of relief. 

Patryk stands, steadying himself against the wall, and brushes off his shoulders after collecting all the dust left up here. He looks at Tord, who has stopped running and is now trying to catch his breath, and says tiredly, "That was terrifying... and I don't ever want to do that again." Tord nods in response and falls to his side in exhaustion. 

The doctor chuckles, "Why are you so out of breath? You're the one with four legs." Tord glares up at him, and he laughs nervously, "Right, right... three legs. Sorry." The mouse shrugs and lays his head down again. Patryk suddenly realizes the cage is slowly swinging to a stop and Tord is still inside. "Hey," He calls, making Tord lift his head again in irritation, "Shouldn't you jump through, too? You don't want to have to run by yourself. Come on, Tord, we have places to be!" 

Tord shakes his head. 

"What? What do you mean 'no'? What about your friends?! We need to find a way to stop this crazy hag." 

Tord taps a claw on the metal, _Too big to fit through bars. Sorry._

"Wh– Are you sure?" 

Tord doesn't even grace him with a response. Patryk rolls his eyes. "So you're telling me I need to trek through this entire zombie-infested building, with an insane witch that's targeting me, to find out friends who may or may not even be alive, and all while i'm about four inches tall, _alone?!_ " 

Tord sits for a moment, then shrugs and nods. 

Patryk feels his face redden in irritation, "Or do you just want to be lazy?" 

The mouse huffs and taps out _Both._

"No." Patryk shakes his head, feeling his bangs fall in front of his face, "Nope. No. Nei. You are coming with me, even if I have to tear apart that cage myself. I'm too small to get anywhere, and if you think I can do anything useful like this you're the crazy one." He quickly scans the area, searching for anything that could help with busting open the cage. Tord stretches out again, laying on his side and breathing slowly. Stupid kid thinks he's just going to sit back while Patryk does the hard work. Psh, like that's gonna' happen. 

"Ah!" Patryk exclaims, finally catching Tord's attention. The boy's head picks up and he looks over. Patryk is slowly making his way down to the shelf below, where Tord can now see an arrangement of knives. Very, very sharp knives. 

A squeak of alarm escapes the mouse and he rapidly shakes his head, because he knows what Patryk wants to do, and he knows it'll hurt like _hell._

Patryk plants both of his feet on the wood and glares up at the cage, "Oh, shut up. Falling a few feet won't hurt that badly. Just hold on tight when I tell you to, capiche?" He hefts the knife onto his shoulder and throws it back to the top shelf, quickly climbing after it. 

A panicky squeak echoes from the cage and it shakes as Tord quickly grabs onto the bars on the furthest side. 

"Ready?" Pat calls, lifting the knife above his head and taking careful aim. The rope is already strained enough on the cage, so if he cuts it, even a little, it shouldn't be able to hold it anymore. The cage will drop, then they can pop Tord out like a biscuit from a can. It's perfect. 

The only response is a loud shreik and Tord frantically tapping out _fuck you fuck you fuck you_. 

Patryk only laughs, then, gathering all of his strength, he angles the knife and chucks it like a spear. All those years in pole vault and the army actually helped with something... huh. 

The knife shoots through the air with a sharp _phwew_ , a little wobblier than Patryk had hoped but it stays on course and cuts the edge of the rope. He watches as the knife bounces of the cage and clatters to the floor, the rope already beginning to fray. 

"Hold on tight, Tord!" He calls up to the boy, who has just enough time to tighten his hold before the rope snaps. 

The cage falls, the loud noise bouncing off the smooth walls and through Patryk's skull. He covers his hears, silently praying no one else heard the clamor. 

As quickly as he can, Patryk climbs down the two shelves, onto a small filing cabnet, which then connects to a long metal counter. He drops onto it, hearing the clicking of his boots as he hurries to a nearby crate. He stops at the edge, catching his breath. Being small is hard work. No wonder Tord is always angry. 

He snorts quietly at his joke, then scales down the side of the wooden crate. When he finally reaches the cage it's dented, the bars pushed together, causing other areas to be opened more. Tord stumbles around inside, looking more or less like he may have several concussions. 

"You okay, Tord?" The mouse nods and shuffles over cautiously, shaking his head a little to clear his vision, "Come on through the bars, you can fit now. That was pretty lucky, huh?" He nods and clambers through. 

Patryk sighs and lays a hand on Tord's neck fur and pets him, surprised when the boy doesn't pull away. 

"Alright," He says, drawing his thoughts together, "We need a plan to get out of here without being trampled, eaten, or just flat out killed by falling or something. I'd say the best route would be the door, but we don't know what's out in the cafeteria. We're too short to reach any of the windows. And the only other door leads to a closet. Not like we'll be able to easily open the doors anyway. Any other ideas?" 

Tord, who had been listening and nodding along, sit back on his haunches and scans the kitchen. There's no other entrances or exits that they can see from here, and Patryk suddenly wonders what would happen if the witch returned. She'd probably kill them, or worse. He isn't sure what the "or worse" part is, but he doesn't really want to find out. 

A soft squeak breaks him from his trance and he looks up to see Tord skittering across the tiles towards a nearby air vent. 

Right. Splendid.

"Smart, Tord, but this is going to be confusing, and not to mention disgusting," He says, peeking through the metal bars at the cobwebs and bugs. "I know the layout of the building like the back of my hand, inside and out, but... it's a little hard to tell where you are when you're shorter than a popsicle stick." 

Tord brings his tail around and pats him lightly on the back, tapping out _U will figure it out_

Patryk smiles, "Thanks for the confidence in me. I promise I'll try my best." He reaches up, motioning for Tord to do the same, and pulls on the already loosened vent. The nails pop off, skidding across the floor, and the metal door is pushed to the side. A cockroach skitters back into the darkness, and Patryk's stomach flips. Tord grimaces. 

"Do we... Are there really no other options?" He asks quietly, watching as a small brown spider crawls up the side of a ball of lint. 

Tord, still grimacing, nods and steps forward. He enters the shaft and soon the darkness encloses him until all Patryk can make out is the sway of a quickly fading tail. 

"I have... so many regrets..." He grumbles as he makes his way forward. The spider catches a small gnat, who struggles for a moment until the arachnid sinks it's fangs into the body. Patryk shivers and carefully scoots around the web, Tord's squeaks urging him forward. 

He looks into the darkness and sighs, shoulders slumping, "Let's just add this to the list, huh."


	13. Update!

Hi lovelies!

So, as you've all, uh, _definitely_ noticed, it's been quite a while since the last update. Haha, yeaaahhh...

Well, good news now, I'm bringing it back to life! I want it to continue because it's fun to write and imagine, plus I really love these characters! 

Now, for a few problems. I'll be needing your help too!

1.) Where would you generally like to see the story go? I originally wanted to give this story a bit of the classic "Eddsworld Fanasy Flair" that everyone loves. Aka Zanta, Zombehs, Atlantis, old friends who own giant robots and use said robots to kill you, aliens... the normal stuff! 

I also did this, because I wanted to somewhat show that the mental illnesses portrayed in the fic aren't the main focus. They can be, if you'd all like! But I wanted for it to be more of a bringing together thing rather than the entire focus, if that makes sense. 

I'd love to hear what you all think, and I've been paying close attention to what a lot of you have been commenting. The main problem is that it's a bit 50/50 on how I should continue. So please (nicely) tell me your opinion!

2.) Blog! I originally did have a blog for this fic, but since I had other ask blogs and such to handle, and since it wasn't getting much traffic, I had to delete it to make things easier for me on good ol' tumblr dot com. Should I bring it back? I loved loved LOVED getting fanart and asks about the fic, but it's whatever you all want! This question is much easier than the first, gosh. 

Okay! Well, I think that's it for now! I'll wait a week or two to get some responses, then we'll see where it goes from there!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! Late... and short... but here! This is mostly a little refresher chapter to get me (hopefully) back into the swing of writing and reintroduce me to my own characters.  
> Also, as promised, here's the blog https://totallymentalfic.tumblr.com/ Hope you enjoy this (short) chapter!

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

Thud thud thud.

Distant drums, perhaps. The callings of warriors into battle. The warcry of the fighters.

Thud thump.

Calls and responses that ring in his ears, that shake his lungs and send tremors down his arms. Is it shaking the ground below them? 

Thud thump, thud thump.

_It’s just your heart. It thinks you are living._

But I am alive. Don’t you see my eyes flutter and my lungs fill? Blood flows in my veins like the pond that sits, stagnant behind the building. I am alive.

_You are alive._

So why argue?

_You are not living. Wake up._

How can I? This life, this living… it seems so convoluted. Incorrigible. Pointless. My heart still beats, is that not enough?

_Wake up._

It’s nice here.

_Wake up. Please, wake up._

Why should I?

_“EDD!”_

Why should I live?

“Edd, for the love of Christ and all things holy, wake the fuck up!”

“Nap time’s over, son!”

It’s safe. It’s warm. It’s easier.

“I swear to FUCK if you don’t get up and help us I’ll beat your ass when this is all over!”

“...Well now, don’t threaten the kid!”

“I’m tired of carrying him!”

“I’ll carry him, then!”

“N-No! I said I’m tired, not that I don’t want to!”

“...Have it your way, son.”

_Why?_

_Because they need you._

____

“Just set him down here, son.” Carl orders, his breathing ragged from the run across the front lawn of Mary’s Hallow, “Whew! I ain’t as young as I used to be!” He doubles over, putting a hand on Preston’s shoulder, who seems to be in a similar state.

“It’s not just you, Carl.” Preston’s eyes dart around in fear as he speaks, “Did… did we lose them?”

Tom eases Edd down to the grass, the man having passed out from all of… whatever just happened. Panic attack, if he could take a wild guess. A bad one too. It’s not as if it’s unjustified, Paul is…

“I think we did, at least for now.” Carl straightens and looks around. They’ve made it to the back part of the building, hidden again by bushes, but now with a view of the pond and gardens. He can see the metal door to the cafeteria from here, locked from the inside, no doubt. Safety reasons, obviously, but he can’t help the small huff of irritation that leaves him. “We’re goin’ta have to break a window. I swanny, this must be the first day of the end of my life! They’ll probably take this out of my paycheck!”

Preston frowns, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

The older guard sighs and shrugs, “I’ve got a lot of worries there, sport, it’s just how I choose which one to focus on.”

“If you both could focus on Edd, that would be fucking fantastic.” Tom snaps, shooting daggers at the two, before retraining his eyes on the unconscious man. “We need to do something, we can’t just leave him here, but if we stay they’ll find us and more people could get hurt.” Teeth grit and a crease in his brow, he looks across the way at the cafeteria door. No weapons. No backup. Hardly even hope left to drive them.

Preston looks hurt, the boy’s eyes prickling at the corners and he looks away. Carl only sighs and nods, kneeling beside Edd, “We can’t just run in there guns a-blazin’ and expect to win, shiiiii… stuff,” He glances nervously at Preston, “Doesn’t work like that. Someone needs to help Edd, but Tord and the Doc are still in there somewhere.” 

“I’m not a little baby. I’ve heard curse words before.” Preston’s petulant voice grumbles.

“Yeah, kiddo, but you’ve at least got some innocence left, I’m gonna keep it for as long as I can. Tom here has, undoubtedly, already shown you every curse word in existence.”

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, FOCUS!” Tom shouts, making Edd flinch on the ground and stir. Tom immediately places a hand on the other’s forehead, brushing some of the hair aside and leaning down to whisper to him, “It’s okay. You’re safe.” The other two men quiet down, sharing a worried look of concern.

“Please,” Tom says to them, his eyes still trained on Edd, “Please just… help me. I’ve known Edd for one, maybe two days. I just watched someone die. Pat might be dead, Tord might be too… our neighbors, our friends, are out there roaming around like mindless piles of meat and I just really, really…” He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, “I want to do something right for once in my godforsaken life. I want to help. I haven’t wanted to do anything in years but suddenly it just… I have something to fight for. I finally have friends that I care about, and god damn it if I’m going let that just slip away because of some stupid apocalypse!” He stands, lifting Edd up with him and holding him against his chest. He may be the smaller one of the trio, but like hell if he’s the weakest, however thin his stomach might be. Preston and Carl watch this all in quiet awe, stricken speechless by the sudden determination, the sudden spark of pure energy that they’re seeing in Tom, someone who hardly even gets out of bed some mornings, who stays to himself writing in his journal for hours, who blows everything off because he just doesn’t see the point in it anymore. 

Tom, depressed, lonely Tom, suddenly _wanting_ something.

Preston’s pout is suddenly a bright grin, and only a moment later Carl is joining in, giving Tom a light clap on the back.

“How about this, son? We all go, you carry Edd and I’ll shoot if needed, Preston can keep an eye out for zombies, and we quietly slip inside. That door doesn’t lead directly to the cafeteria, it’s more of the way to a service hallway that leads to the kitchen. Maybe we can haul butt to the knife drawers before any zombies try to take a nibble.” Carl finished with a reassuring smile, looking between Tom and Edd, “I know it’s stressful, but I’m proud of you, Tom. You’re a brave kid.”

“Yeah! Strong too!” Preston adds, a shy smile on his face.

Tom adjusts Edd in his arms and finds himself smiling down at the man’s sleeping face, “You guys are a mess.” Edd’s nose twitches and Tom grins, “That sounds like a plan to me.”

“Well?” Carl asks, peeking around the bushes, “What are we waiting for, then? Let’s go save Mary’s Hallow!”

“Don’t say it like that… that sounds like a cheesy romance-action movie one-liner. We could literally die and you’re trying to impersonate someone from, like, if Friends and the Terminator combined. That’s disgusting.”

Preston frowns, “I thought it was nice.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it was lame, but you know what’s even lamer? My arms aching from standing here. Let’s go.”

____

_Why can’t you wake up?_

_Are you broken?_

_Dead?_

_You’re a zombie. They got you because you’re weak. ___

___Your friends need you and you let them down._ _ _

___Way to go._ _ _

___Asshole._ _ _

___Selfish._ _ _

__It hurts to move. There’s noise ringing in his ears, light peeking through the drawn shades of his eyelids, closed from the world, only semipermeable, just how he likes it. It’s safe, it’s easy, it’s calm. Here in his little world, thoughts drifting along, being pushed by some imperceptible current, the flow like silk falling from atop a skyscraper. Beautiful, angelic, capable of suffocating a pedestrian once it hits the ground._ _

___You could stay like this, you know._ _ _

___Look at how the waves have stopped crashing. The ocean is calm, now._ _ _

___It’s safe, it’s safe, it’s safe..._ _ _

___It might not be, though._ _ _

___But here, in this place, it feels like it._ _ _

___Safe._ _ _


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter! Woooooo!   
> Thank you all so, so much for your continuous support for this story. I know it's been a long ride, but you all are really what keep me motivated to continue. Your comments make me so happy, and I really can't thank you enough for your kind words.
> 
> Chapter track (because I just think it works well): "Goodmorning" by Bleachers (OR for just a background reading song, "b song" by San Holo is good!)
> 
> TW: Mentioned animal death, as well as implied fire and death. (Tell me if you'd like any more warnings for this chapter!)

Although the vents were dark, the two small men push on, using only small slits of light from grates and holes to illuminate their path. The spiders and curled up centipedes didn’t prove to be too much of an issue, but certainly evoked a prominent fear in their chests. With wide eyes and bushy tails (a funny thought that had passed through Patryck’s head upon glancing at Tord around the second dark stretch of metal passage) they creep, taking in every small movement from each dust bunny and speck of dust.

Tord isn’t concerned about the insects and arachnids that resided in the vents, but instead focuses on the main blockade in their quest: the witch. She had left, for that much he was certain, just before they had broken the cage. This thought, while a comfort to his companion, was only proving to heighten his paranoia. She could be anywhere. Every shadow reminds him of her dark, wild hair. His whisker twitching against a screw is the cold feeling of her nails dusting over his cheek. 

“I hate this. I hate this so much. What the fuck.” Patryck’s sharp whisper cuts through his thoughts, making him blink in alarm. Patryck gives a tight grimace, “Sorry, I’m just getting a bit… frustrated, is all.”

Understandably so, Tord thinks.

“I mean, come on! Just yesterday I was sitting at my desk enjoying filing some _riviting_ paperwork. Just a normal day, normal appointments, everything so drastically normal! Now look at me! I’m four inches tall, fighting off spiders in a roach-infested air vent with my patient, who has been turned into a mouse, while the rest of my patients and coworkers are being turned into the walking dead, and this isn’t even just my job on the line, but the lives of over a hundred patients I just really don’t know what to do o-oh god oh my god this is bad, oh this is really b–”

A quick smack of a tail is enough to curb the oncoming breakdown. The doctor yelps and runs right into a cobweb, which makes Tord laugh.

“Yeah, funny.” Patryck grumbles, picking off the webbing as much as he can, only to stumble directly into a new one. “SHIT!” He shouts angrily, to which Tord’s ears flatten against his head. Shame fills him, to the point where he even looks away. It had been an unintentional thing, of course, to do that to the doctor. The poor man just had his life crumble around him, so a breakdown is probably warranted.

...No, Patryck can be angry at him all he wants, but they have bigger shit to do. The shame recedes and is replaced by sudden irritation. Where it comes from, he isn’t quite sure, but it’s something dark and is screaming inside of him. A red-hot coal on his heart that makes his shoulders tense. Patryck isn’t the only one with problems. Patryck isn’t the one who’s been trapped in this place for years. Patryck applied here. He got a degree from some prestigious university and followed all the rules like a good little boy. _Stay in line, kiddies! Remember to follow the leader, and be respectful to the guest speaker today! He’s a fireman!_ And oh, how that irked him. He’d always wondered how it would feel to connect his fist with Patryck’s cheekbone, or anyone’s here really. Tom’s especially, but he knew he’d be sent away for any incident like attacking a patient or doctor. Put right back in solitary, or worse, a prison. He really did NOT feel like going back there. Last time, he kept to himself, hardly speaking a word to anyone for the five months he was there.

That day, the final day in that lonely, lonely hell, the guard and his lawyer arrived and explained that he was being transferred somewhere. The ruling had changed.

“They think I’m innocent?” He’d whispered, his eyes wide with a spark of hope that he knew they saw. His lawyer, Whitaker, had given him such a disgusting, vile look of pity, one that he saw far too often during his trial. One that keeps him awake at night thinking about breaking the lawyer’s nose just to clear his face of it. That expression. 

Whitaker shook his head and gave a sad, “No, they, er, looked further into your medical records, at my prompting, of course. Your ruling has been changed to a plea of insanity.”

Tord had stared, dumbfounded, at his lawyer, rapping his knuckles on the table over and over again. He remembered the noise clearly. Tha-tha-tha-thunk. It had drowned out the noise of the visiting room, which was suddenly far too noisy.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Johnson. It’s not what we originally planned, but I talked them into it, and if you seek treatment for your mental problems, you’ll get out of a life sentence.”

“I don’t have problems!” Tord growled, hitting his fist against the table. The guard looked up and he sank back down, still gritting his teeth, “What medical documents? The ones from seven years ago?”

“Well, yes. Hallucinations, anger management problems, paranoia, depression… Tord, this list goes on and on. Your doctor confirmed the diagnosis, but he said he’d suggested you seek further medical help at a specialist, and I’m to assume you never did?” Whitaker raised his eyebrows.

“Of course I didn’t! I was 16! My parents… they didn’t think there was anything wrong. I was a moody teen dealing with stress. That. Is. It.” He spit, his words sharp, “The hallucinations didn’t mean anything. Everyone thinks they see things in the corner of their eye.”

Whitaker looked apologetic, “Tord…”

“No! NO! How dare you? You’re supposed to be helping me!”

“I _am_.” Whitaker frowned and leaned his elbows on the table, “I’m not afraid of you, Tord. I don’t think you killed them intentionally, however, if you don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of your life, then I suggest you agree with me. It’s the lesser of two evils, Mr. Johnson.”

Tord’s vision turned red and hot, angry tears sprung up behind his eyes, “I didn’t do it unintentionally! I didn’t do it at all! Why can’t any of you see?! You’re all so stupid! I don’t remember anything!” He screamed.

“Calm down.” The guard ordered, to which Whitaker raised a hand in response.

“It’s okay.” He leaned closer to Tord, who’s shoulders shook from the effort of gripping his chair, “Mr. Johnson… do you want to stay here?” He calmly asked, his voice soft and understanding. Tord knew he would never understand, never in a thousand years would anyone know what it was like to wake to blood on your hands and coughing up smoke.

Tord shook his head.

“That’s what I thought. I know…” Whitaker sighed, “I know you aren’t happy about the new ruling, but, as awful as it sounds, there’s a reason behind it now. No motive, still, unless you’re suddenly feeling the desire to confess one, but you don’t really have another option. You were younger then, Tord, and you’re still young now. You have the option of restarting, here. A life of semi-freedom. Maybe even, eventually, you’ll be able to leave on probation.” He sighed again and took the handle of his briefcase, giving a hopeful smile to the still upset Tord as his stood. “Just… consider it, at least? I’ll give you two days, then come back with the paperwork if you decide you want the transfer. See you, Mr. Johnson.” And with those final words, he left back through the visitor entrance.

Tord’s eyes don’t leave the table. He remained, motionless, his hands underneath his thighs in an effort to control the shaking. As he was escorted back to his cell he doesn’t remember blinking. His eyes burned.

The clink of his claws on the metal shakes him out of the trance, one that he didn't even realize he’d slipped into. Patryck is still talking, apparently to Tord, but not expecting a response for the obvious reason of his lack of a voice. Something about his patients and how much paperwork this entire ordeal will bring. Legal issues, letters he’ll have to write, the extra sessions everyone will need to book.

“SHUT UP!” He wants to scream, his tail flicking furiously, “YOU DON’T KNOW!” And he really doesn’t. Patryck doesn’t know what it’s like, as much as he wants to help them. Lawyers, therapists, hell, even his dentist, none of them know what it means to be him. _”Oh, I understand dear! My cousin had depression, so I get it.”_ Sure, Mrs. Laulice, have a nice day!

Tord briefly wonders what Patryck’s home life was like. He would bet money on the typical white picket fence home, with a dog, maybe a sibling, a mom and dad who would take them out to the fair and buy them cotton candy.

Tord had that. Growing up, at least. The symptoms of his illness didn’t start being apparent until he was around 13. Of course, it was chalked off as typical mood swings. All of his friends had them, it was just normal teen hormones going to the extremes to accommodate for the changes occuring in the body. Sudden bouts of anger, hypersensitive senses, generalized anxiety. The depression hit him around the time of his fifteenth birthday, and boy did it hit hard. He skipped more school days than he could count, setting him back a school year for flunking out. That’s around the time his parents sent him to the doctor, only originally to make sure he wasn’t suicidal, which he wasn’t. 

Where there had been love, warmth, in his childhood home was replaced with cold tension. He stayed in his room. His parents argued incessantly, which only made him more agitated. His father had argued that they needed to take their son to see someone. One of the specialists recommended to them. His mom, however, had thought otherwise.

“We can’t spend money like that! We know he’s okay, he’s a healthy boy going through puberty a-and changes and, well, normal kid stuff. You’re overreacting.” She had exclaimed one night.

“He needs help! He…” His voice turned into a whisper, but Tord didn’t even breathe, “He told the doctor he’s having hallucinations, Kel. That’s not ‘normal kid stuff,’ that’s concerning. He hears things that aren’t there.”

His mother had been quiet for a bit, then, with a cool tone, she ordered, “Stop worrying. Help set the table.”

That night, Tord ate his dinner silently, his eyes focused on his copy of _Because of Winn-Dixie_ while his fork absently stabbed at his reheated chicken and rice. His parents talked about simple things, like how their days went, or how they were expecting another heavy snow later that week. At one point, his mother asked him how school was going and only shrugged in response, not even having the grounding to fake a smile for her. While he was putting away his dishes, they had exchanged a look behind him while he watched on in the reflection in the window.

To his credit, his sixteenth year went a little better. He got a small job working as a dollar store cashier, so it at least kept him out of the house and away from the worried glances or passive-aggressive comments. He got his first real girlfriend, a nice girl named Catherine, someone who, at the time, he devoted everything to. Her blonde-dyed hair and wide smile are the only things he vividly remembers of her, both because they lit up any room and because he always seemed to just… focus. Narrow in on a specific quality about something. Her hair was so bright, to the point where it looked as if it was the sun when it hit the light bouncing off the snowbanks. 

Just a year before they had began dating, she had been a shy girl, someone he hadn’t spoken to much, but smiled at in the hallways or sat near during assemblies. Over the course of the year, however, they grew closer. Sitting together at lunch, walking to classes together and calling each other after school. One day, a few months into the school year, she had walked up to him, her umbrella open over them both and a blush dusting her cheeks.

“Mind if we walk home together?” She asked, then scrutinized his hood, “You don’t have an umbrella.”

He smiled and shrugged, “Sure.” Then he laughed, “I only live a few streets away, I don’t really need one. I’ll just stay home anyway, I’m not trying to impress anyone.”

“Hm,” She hummed, “Well, I live down the hill past the Chestnut Home, so we probably don’t live too far away, how about this,” She took his arm gently and pushed him forward to walk, “I’ll walk with you, so you won’t look so creepy in just your little, uh, creeper hoodie. But,” She held up a finger and looked at him seriously, he raised his eyebrows and grinned in response, “You have to take me to the movies this weekend… oh! And buy me a milkshake.” 

Tord stopped walking and stared at her, a few barely concealed laughs escaping him, “Is that so? Well, how could I refuse such an amazing deal?” He held out his hand and she shook it, grinning and laughing along with him. Another month later and they would share their first kiss.

The real problems began when his father sat him down and explained that him and Kelly, Tord’s mother, were getting a divorce. 

Every pleasant little wall he had built up over the course of that year crumbled around him in one weak blow. He doesn’t remember leaving, but he does remember hugging Catherine on her front porch, still in his pajama pants and without a shirt on. He must have looked a mess, and probably scared the hell out of that poor girl. Her parents had called his and, eventually, his mother showed up to drive him back home. The back seat was colder than the street had been.

He broke up with Catherine two weeks later. 

After that, he finished that year of school and never went back. 

Two more years of constant full-time work and he was appointed manager.

Two more after that and he had an episode worse than he’d ever had. He killed a squirrel because he thought it would do it first if he didn’t. He also saw a man in his driveway, and heard the dishwasher explode, and heard his mother’s car pull into the driveway. None of these things happened. 

When his mother really did come home, she found her son in the basement, hyperventilating, with a barricade of kitchen chairs around him and an old cassette player blasting Let It Be by The Beatles. When she asked him what happened, he didn’t have an answer for her. He just… he _knew_ something was wrong, that there were people watching them, who wanted to hurt him. She held his hands and saw the blood from the squirrel. The expression she gave him is what he sees in his deepest parts of sleep.

Another year and he would find himself, again, in the basement, his hands bloodied, while smoke steadily began to claw at his lungs. 

Three weeks would find him in a courtroom.

Another week, in temporary jail.

Two months after that, he gave a final testimony. 

The next day he watched the town he knew so well roll by with glazed eyes. The handcuffs hurt his wrists.

“...not very sturdy, are they? I mean it isn’t as if people are usually walking around in here.”

Patryck’s voice, once again, cuts through his thoughts, startling him to the point of jumping. He wants to go back to his room at Mary Hallow’s, just crawl under the soft blankets and tinker with his little mind puzzles and metal trinkets. He wants to wave at Carl from his desk in the morning and sit in the boring West Wing common room alone and watch stupid soap operas. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants his arm back, his real arm, and his old home, his clothes, his books, his school. Why did he drop out? Why did he do that?

“OH! Tord, look! We made it outside! I can see the flowers through this vent, so we must be outside of the cafeteria. Here, help me with these screws!”

Tord squeaks in response and looks back at the dark passageway, then turns and starts twisting a screw. 

He knows why...

It’s because it was easier.


End file.
